At some point I’m gonna re-write the last chapter of ASAP,
because, let’s be serious, I think my cat would of written it better.
At some point I’m gonna re-write the last chapter of ASAP,
because, let’s be serious, I think my cat would of written it better.
Bertie frowned, “..and by slight mishap you mean..?”
“I mean..” I sighed, “I mean: I left your camera at my house.”
“Well, it’s off to your house we go then!” He announced, taking me by surprise.
“What, um, no, you see, I, my house is messy, um… I could just go by myself and then come back?” I suggested, still rummaging in my bag in hope that the camera would magically appear at the bottom. Just then the train jerked, and I fell onto the floor of the empty carriage, my head clonking onto one of the orange poles (that are there specifically to stop this kind of thing from happening) on the way down.
I sat up with my hand supporting the back my head.
“Ow.” I moaned, fighting back the tears that were flooding into my eyes.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Bertie’s eyes widened.
“Mm-hmm.” I mumbled, knowing that if I tried to speak, I would probably burst into tears.
Now, I’m not usually one to cry, but it’s that sympathy thing, you know? I would’ve been fine if he had chuckled pleasantly at my clumsiness and carried on with our conversation, but instead he showed sympathy, which for some reason made my brain go “It’s okay, he cares. You can cry pathetically on the floor.”
So, when I noticed the pain in the back of my head start to throb harder, my eyes practically exploded like waterfalls and from then on I was sobbing like a toddler.
I looked away, staring out the window as I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my coat. How embarrassing. I didn’t even need to look at Bertie to know that he was standing there, feeling awkward and useless. The feeling was mutual.
“Sor-ry ab-out thi-is.” I sniffled, choking on my words. I hate it when that happens. When you’re gasping for oxygen, you can’t do anything.
“It’s fine. Does your head hurt?” I suddenly felt a hand touch the back of my head. I jumped, both from pain and shock.
“Obviously. Sorry.” Bertie shook his head, drawing back his hand.
“I think I should go home.” I said, clambering up the seats to stand up on the moving train.
“I think I should come too.” Bertie replied, looking serious.
“Right, to get your camera.” I nodded.
“No, to make sure you’re okay.” He corrected.
I nodded slowly, unsure of whether my brain had just made that up or he had actually said that.
“Now, hold onto one of these this time.” He said, slapping an orange pole. “We don’t want that happening again.”
He grinned at me, turning my frown upside-down.
(Okay so maybe I think this is actually decent to post. xox)
10:30am. Too early to be up on a Saturday, if you ask me. I shrugged on my coat, staring at myself in the mirror. It was one of those times where I knew that if I worked myself up too much, I would give up entirely. I had to go though. I couldn’t put myself before others. Bertie needed his camera, and I wasn’t about to let him down.
I could feel my brain over-thinking everything. You see, I always had this thing about the London Underground. The way it always managed to make me feel lost, even with all the simple maps surrounding me. The way it always had an excuse to be busy.
I pulled my bag off the banister and left the house, slamming the door behind me. Proving to myself that there was no going back now. And it almost felt.. exciting.
Bertie had figured that we could meet halfway. To him it was just a way to get his camera back. To me it was a game plan.
At exactly 10:45am I arrived at the bus stop, just in time to jump onto the bus. I paid for a ticket and sat at the front.
At 11:00am the bus pulled up at the train station. I braced myself before going inside. I could see by the amount of cars in the car park that it was going to be busy. Deep breaths. I marched into the building like I meant business, although inside I was panicking about getting lost in the swarms of people. As of yet, it seemed there wasn’t actually anyone around; just a couple of families and an old man reading a newspaper. Oh.Well there’s nothing to worry about, is there?
“One ticket to London, please.” I said, as I got out my purse ready to pay.
The man behind the plastic window ignored my polite smile and bluntly replied: ”Six pounds.”, with a rude look of disapproval at my hair.
Wow, he’s a bit rude.. and that’s a bit pricey. I slipped the six coins into the little bowl-type-thing underneath the window that separated him and I. I gladly took my ticket with a slightly shakey hand, and began walking through the barriers and down the stairs, my trainers squeaking on the shiny tiles. Closer and closer towards my fate.
Boarding the train was easy, it was practically a ghost train. It was when crowds of people began squeezing in that I started to freak out inside. I slipped in my earphones and played my music loud, blocking out the world around me.. and hey, this seat is kind of comfy..
“Hey Violet, is that you?”
“Hmm.. what?” I grumbled, as I opened my eyes, realising that I had been asleep. A thought flashed through my head, for just a second I thought that I had slept through every single stop, but then I looked up. I looked into the most incredible blue eyes, I swear they were like circular windows framing the greek ocean. Then, my eyes took in the face surrounding the incredible eyes, and I realised that it was Bertie. I ripped out my earphones and coughed awkwardly.
“You are Violet, right?” He asked again.
I stood up, way quicker than you should on a moving train. Bertie stepped back, alarmed.
“I am she.” I replied curtsying, immediately feeling stupid afterwards. Why am I curtsying?
He laughed. He laughed. It’s okay because.. he laughed.
“Hi, I’m Bertie Gilbert.” He introduced himself, reaching his hand out for me to shake. As if I didn’t know.
“Hello.. I’m Violet Harwood.” I said, accepting his handshake.
“So, um, here’s your camera.” He handed it over. “I guess neither of us were doing art projects.
I laughed, “I guess not. Hang on, let me get your camera out of my bag.”
I rummaged around in my leather rucksack. Keys, phone, cardigan.. no camera. Jeez, where is his camera? And then I remembered. I had left it on the table, by the mirror, at home.
“Uhm, there’s been a slight mishap…”
So, a couple of days later and I’m now sitting sitting at my computer. The arrow hovers over the tweet button. For some reason I can’t bring myself to say to him: ‘Hey, I think we accidently swapped cameras the other day’, simply because it’s embarrassing. I’ve left it too late, I’m back from my holiday in London now (if you could call it a holiday- travelling from England to, oh look, England) and it’s a fairly long journey to go back.
“Ugh, I’ll think about that another time. Better late than never.” And so I click tweet and half of me thinks ‘I hope he sees it’ and the other half wishes that he won’t at all.
I log off, ponder whether or not I can be bothered to get my phone from where I left it in… um.. and then I wonder where my phone actually is. I decide it’s not important and leave for school.
The air feels fresher here, than in London, crisper, lighter. Where I live is a lot less busy as well. I wait patiently for the school bus, which is usually about 15 minutes late but I come on time anyway, just in case it magically arrives earlier one day. When I finally climb onto the bus, I smile to the driver as if I haven’t been almost falling asleep on the bench, and take my seat by the window.
It’s not long before we reach some major road works and have to stop. At that moment I wish I had taken my phone so that I could check the time, or listen to some music that I put on my phone in Year 7, anything would be better than just staring at trees…
On the next stop Alice gets on and sits next to me.
“Hi, Alice.” I greet her, my voice slightly gruff, typical Monday-morning style.
“Hey Violet!” She grins and I grin back, shortly followed by an awkward silence.
“So… got anything interesting to tell me?” I ask.
“No, not really.. you?”
“I went to London on the weekend.” I replied, barely any excitement in my tone of voice.
“Cool. That must have been fun.”
You see, where I live is calm, relaxed, peaceful, but most of the time it’s incredibly boring. The most amount of fun I get in my day is when I daydream. For most people, the most exciting thing they’ll ever see is my pink hair. So don’t go thinking this is any more than an average town, with average houses and average people, because it’s not. Just plain old average me, as well.
And yet somehow I managed to get 10,000 subscribers on YouTube.
Don’t ask me.
So.. okay. Let’s just take some time to.. acknowledge that I’ve accidently stolen somebody’s camera, and they’ve.. accidently.. stolen.. mine. Breathe. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Now I’ve messed up my breathing pattern and I can’t breathe properly. Jeez McCheese, I need to get a grip.
Would it be creepy if I looked through his videos?
Yes, because they are private and I shouldn’t invade on peoples lives, especially if I don’t know them.
But maybe I’ll find out where to find him so that I can swap our cameras back, therefore not creepy, just clever. Decisions, Decisions… Ah, what the heck!
“Hey I’m BertieBertG and today I’m going to meet up with Roy and Harrison at Hyde Park. And this will probably end up being a really crappy video and then I won’t upload it because… well because..”
I search BertieBertG into Google and quite a lot of results appear. A tumblr, a twitter, a few fanfics (-that’s a bit scary), and then a YouTube Channel. I click on it with my eyes squeezed shut, just in case. Slowly, I open my eyes to reveal a big banner that reads: BERTIEBERTG in big blue letters. He has a partnership and more than 67,000 subscribers. Well clearly he’s more famous than I ever would of thought he would be.
The following day I discover that his full name is Bertie Gilbert and he was in a Harry Potter film and in Horrible Histories. I find out which school he goes to and who he is friends with. And I have to shut down my computer because what started out as an innocent plan to swap our cameras back, has become psychotic fact-file, which is way beyond creepy…
(I still haven’t got a name for the girl character in this story, so please put any ideas [even your own name if you like] in my ask box and will choose one which suits her:) Bye!! xox)
I’m glad I escaped that awkward situation. I think she believed me, I hope she did anyway. It always looks a bit odd to onlookers when you’re filming yourself talking in public.
Harrison and Roy were kicking a football about, I walked over to them, waving my arm until they noticed me. Pointing the camera at Roy, I told him to say hey. He gave a wink to the camera and said “Hello ladies” instead.
I ended up having to yell at Harrison because he was too into his keepy-uppies to notice me.
“HARRISOOONNN! WHY WON’T YOU NOTICE ME? WHY!?”
I think that got his attention.
“Jesus, Bert!” He growled. “Are you gonna film everything?”
“Yeah. I think I’m going to put your reaction in slo-mo.” I replied, laughing.
“Great.” Harrison commented sarcastically.
Home, uploading the video onto my Mac. I impatiently waited for the uploading bar to be full, as I looked over my old videos.
“I’m so weird…” I mumbled as I watched ‘Hobbies’ for the billionth time.
It was finally uploaded so I began editing. At the beginning of the video it wasn’t me.. it was the pink-haired girl that I’d bumped into. Bloody hell, there’s something I can tick off my bucket list, swapping cameras with a stranger…
I squeaked as my camera fell out of my hand.
“NO, my camera!” I said, wait… that wasn’t me- that sounded like a boy. I glanced upwards from my camera’s fall and stared up into a pair of blue eyes. I flinched and jumped back, realising the very little amount of personal space I had. Letting my eyes fall back to my camera, I noticed that it must have tumbled across the path until it had reached my feet. As I bent down to pick it up, I prayed that it wasn’t broken. Luckily, it wasn’t and it was, infact, still filming.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Hang on, he said “NO, my camera!”, didn’t he?
I put on my most confident smile and asked the (blonde- if you were concerned) boy: “Is your camera okay? It’s not broken is it?”
He brushed some dirt off the lense. “I think it’s okay.. Is yours?”
“Yeah, thank god.” I replied. All of a sudden he looked sceptical, I think he was wondering what I was doing with my camera.
“It’s, um… for a project.. in.. art. An art project.” I lied.
“Uh, yeah me too.” He spoke quickly and then briskly walked away. Rude.
I don’t think I’m going to film any more for that video. I stopped recording and headed home again.
I shut my bedroom door, put my camera on my tripod, and tweeted: ‘Just bumped into someone whilst filming my video.. awkward.’
I was so glad that my camera didn’t break. It took so long to save up for it- and the tripod! I didn’t buy anything for a whole year, and I got a paper round. But anyway, moving on…
“Thank you God.” I whispered, “Even though technically I’m an atheist, you are still epic.”
I then sat down and filmed an outro for the video, explaining that it had to be cut short because I bumped into someone.
Unfortunately when I went to upload the videos onto my computer, well, the first one wasn’t there. I got annoyed at the thought that I might have accidently deleted it. Instead there was another video.. of the boy I bumped into. I was confused at first, but then all the pieces fell into place…
I had swapped camera’s with the stranger who I bumped into at the park today. Why me? WHYYY!?
It’s a mild Saturday morning in London. Thousands of hungover teenagers are regretting their wild deeds from yesturday’s latest hours and today’s earliest hours. They’re nursing headaches and gagging over toilet seats. But I’m not one of them. Oh, no. I’m sporting a vest and cycling shorts whilst jogging in Hyde Park. This is not what I usually do, I explain this to the Canon 60D camera that I’m holding at heads height, it was an idea for a video from…
“Um.. I can’t remember their username right this moment but I will write it here.” I say, as I point to the area in which I will edit-in their username.
“This is not fun. People are looking at me weirdly…” I continue as I glance over my shoulder at the staring dog walkers.
Of course, people are going to think that you’re slightly mental if you’ve got pink hair and you’re casually having a conversation with a camera.
“As some of you may know: I hit 10,000 subscribers, which is extraordinary. And I cannot thank you guys enough… oh, sugar. Nearly ran into a bench.”
“I literally can’t see anything with this camera in front of me.” I laughed.
“Oh, jeez. I’m gonna bump into someone in a minute.”- Famous last words…