In the Arms of Morpheus

and don't make

out with the delectable Damon Salvatore from Vampire Diaries. Arg! It's always the good dreams that get in

ger the walls had been decorated with ballerina posters and dolls and, even though

'm not speaking again! You're

rm clock when yo

to the bathroom. My hair was a mess of dark brunette curls somehow resembling a bird's nest in its dishevelled style. I grabbed my hairbrush and yanked it through my hair in order to tame the wi

was such a big change

apped in a time warp. It was only in the past two years that my mother had forced my father to relent and they finally tiled the bathroom and kitchen, ripping out the last shreds of linoleum which had remained in the house since the dark ages. Parquet ran througho

better be up!"

we own a restaurant which –surprise, surprise – serves Greek food. Sometimes it feels as if

mother, a tiny creature, made pancakes. In retrospect, they're completely the opposite of each other which is probably a blessing. My mother'

ully as I could muster this early in the morning, kissin

ied using the Greek word for daughter,

in gloriously golden syrup. Yummy! I poured myself a cup of coffee in an attempt to wake myself u

d envelope situated next to my plate with my name on

e letter and marvelling at the fact that the idiot still post

e lens of his heritage" but it my opinion he just wanted to experience life independently and out from under the ever watchful gaze of my mother. While my parents obviously didn't fall hook, line and sink

d to myself as he wrote in detail about his failed attempt to get a girl's number in a market. She led him on a s

mother piped up from across the kitchen,

ooked me over. "There's nothing wro

, successfully guilting me into treading back to my room after breakfast and changing into a summer dress which my m

floral print. More floral! Could my parents get any weirder? The upside of this monstrosity was that it actually accentuated my figure in all the right places and made my

saw a Greek gir

fornia as a lecturer of ancient Greece and mythology, a rather useless topic in my opinion, but my father loved it almost as much as he loved his 1980s model Cadilla

followers as soon as she opened her mouth and voiced her opinions of how sexist and brainless cheerleading is. This all occurred when the cheerleading squad tried to rope her into

dn't

f my prison. The school's dark grey exterior was not softened by the stairs in front of it or the odd bush which had been planted in an attempt to make the schoo

Callista, this is the last first day of school you'll ever have." he said som

, Ba

e was dropping me off with a transcript to go off to war. In

d vacated the car, watching him drive off into the

cheerleaders out and comparing muscles, the stoners staring off into the distance, the emos sulking in a corner, the band geeks talking about band c

hen there was my crowd, slap bang in the middle of the chain - those who didn't fit into any group because we were too

, shocked that I had abandoned my jeans. "A

what I had originally put on. "Well, it

ll have secret talents then design was certainly hers. She was so in love with clothing and creating outfits that she carried a stash of sequins, a needle and some thread w

f you! Now do a

low twirl so that she

control the laughter w

ituation wa

the belief that her fashion sense had final

king around for the usual misf

d her attention for much longer than that – re

! And apparently his replacement is young and supe

d Mr Crawley" since before I was born. The man was more a relic to the school than the actual buildi

could possibly mean that the poor, unknowin

ted. Kayla and I made a detour to our lockers to put our bags and extra books away before making our way to home roo

he new guy! Mr Pe

th for AP Mathematics, Miss Carlson for Physical Education, Mrs Miller for

e back of her note 'me too!' b

read our wings and go far in life". I'm almost certain that you must have failed your psych exam to become a teacher... at least at my school. She had pushed back her grey hair into th

was a brill

my blank notebook from my desk and, together with Kayla, m

usual places, remarking at the changes which had reformed the dusty haven of textbooks and broken projectors into the literary paradise it had become. It

Peterson, but you can call me M

en eyes framed by the most gorgeously dark lashed I had ever seen. We all sighed, except for Kayla who paled a little instead. I didn't think t

cute guy on the soccer team. Okay, I don't think she

was all wor

e heard was "hi, my name is so-and-so and I love English". The same line drummed a beat into my skull and gave me a headache with its mono

allista and I'm alle

stion but I didn't care. Mr Peterson laughed and

forgive me. Now, to turn our attention to the semester project... and to the man Cal

s catch fire wi

kespeare wrote those words in his play entitled Macbeth. Your assignment is a long one, so be prepared. Each of you must find someone who truly knows the meaning of life in contrast to death. If you cannot find someone, then try to get an understanding about it from what is aroun