Once again I managed to write another chapter during college, I am so proud of myself \O/
hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it and in the mighty words of Saw, "I want to play a game." I would like to see who you all think the Blogger is because I never actually said this blogger was going to be Kanda, you just all assumed it was, which I found rather interesting.
So please read and review-Tell me who you think this Blogger is, I wanna see how many people guess right \(o.o)/
[2 July – 10:44]
[I know I've already briefly touched upon the recurring issue of manners but I shall continue to do so until I see an improvement. Anything would be fine. I don't see how people can't do it; saying please and thank you, however cliché it may be, it seriously doesn't take much effort to string them to a sentence. It's one word, two tops.
I don't even know how people can't use them. If I don't at least mumble the holy words, my conscience starts eating away at my resolve to be rude, until I finally give in and say it. Of course by that point the conversation has shifted so I look even worse. You can't deny that you notice when someone doesn't use their manners. The revelation that they haven't said it hits you and you start to wonder if they were raised by dogs…
It's like a well-known social law that people should use their manners; like a standard for human behaviour but the punishment isn't as severe as I'd like it to be, the punishment being the social disapproval of all you peers. Although it doesn't sound a big deal, the label of being the kid with no manners really does stick - like throwing shit at a wall stick.
I mean, England has this big fancy label of being the land of Ladies and Gentlemen, but the reality of it Is we have trouble flushing the toilet when we're done having a shit so big we feel the need to tell everyone about it. Why? Why the fuck do people do it? I don't wanna know; I doubt anyone else in the room does either, yet you go an' do it anyway. Why? Nowhere else does it, yet we do? I am proud not to be British. Proud
The land I nationalise from, manners are the very core of our language. The cliché of us being ever so polite hold true; In fact, sometimes we're so helpful; it's a pain in the arse. You walk down the streets ask a stranger where the nearest KFC is and they will go out of their way to provide you with the information. If we don't know immediately, we'll whack out our smartphones, Google earth it, call our friends and ask for advice. If we can't help you, we'll run away in shame, the echoes of our tear felt apologise floating the air behind us. You'll actually feel guilty for asking and inflicting such a large scale amount of shame upon us.
But here? In good Ole England, Land of the Lords and Ladies. You get the finger thrown in your face and the echoes of their cronies 'OOOOooooohhhhhh!s' thrown at your face. I think the Queen should go and walk the roads of my college, bit of a reality check. My generation of … whatever you call them are not polite in the slightest. This is something so serious; I can't even place the blame on Facebook.
This is some serious shizz.]
Allen placed his hand on the laptop lid and closed it gently. He placed his feet on the shelf under his desk and pushed so his chair rolled back slightly, he leant back in his chair and released the sigh that had been sat on his chest. His eyes slipped closed and his shoulders sagged slightly.
Tim watched him from his seat on Allen's pillow. He'd noticed, not that he particularly cared… that his little slaved had seemed extra tired lately. He'd come in from wherever he went, sit at his desk, read the blog, and then do what he's doing now for hours. He did nothing... for hours. The mongrel strays would think he was one of them. Tim felt his fur bristle at the thought of them. The strays. Another shudder shook his small frame.
He shifted so he was sat like, what Allen had called, a 'sphinx' and tried to subtly shake the thought away; easier said than done. He had a rather short flashback to the one time Allen had taken him outside the apartment. The feel of the damp green bladey stuff scratching his freshly cleaned paw pads had been hideous. Those smaller-Allen-like people who had ran over and started pulling on his tail; 'children' Allen had called them, horrible things. He'd jumped out of the way of the little demons in favour of running down a secluded pathway that ran all around the apartment block.
That's when he'd met them, the strays.
Tim curled into himself, placing a paw over his face as he remembered. He wouldn't call them 'scary' more so unclean he had run away in fear of his health. He wouldn't be going to the vets for some jab they had caused him to need. No way in hell. There had been a pack of them, four in total. All equally dirty. The leader had waltzed over like he was the bad man, hissed in Tim's face. The sheer nerve of the mongrel, his breath had actually groped his face. Tim's whiskers twitched at the memory. The boss cat's paw had stuck his face, teeth bare and shackles raised. Not really knowing what was going on, Tim had turned around and legged it. In pure fear of having to go to the vet he told himself as he paused the flashback.
Tim sat up from his place on Allen's bed and jumped down to the floor. He rubbed his body against Allen's leg in hope of getting a reaction from him. Nothing. So he jumped on the desk, landing on the laptop with a crash he acted like it was all part of the plan. Allen's eye's blinked open as he shifted himself forwards. He placed his hand gently on Tim's yellow head and smiled as he heard him purr in gratitude. He reached for the desks draw, placed the notebook on the desks surface and bought his blue biro down till it met the paper.
NOT BRITISH. POLITE. USES MANNERS.
Throwing the pen down, he rose from his seat. Grabbed his phone and went towards the lounge area; he set himself down on the dark leather and shifted until he was comfortable. Rubbing at his eye's he looked at the phones small screen.
[Next time you're SO coming to the café! ;D]
[Hope you feel better soon Al! I'll be able to cope with them this time but you better join us next! Xx]
[You're coming next time, even if I have to drag you myself. Otherwise you won't be getting those English notes.]
He felt a smile pull at his lips as he read each message. His college life had drastically changed after that fateful English lesson, He knew how to handle bullies, they were big but they weren't clever. He had often seen Tyki get called back from a class but he kinda owed him for his transformation. He laughed more these days, spoke way more than he ever thought he would and it was all due to four people
The bully, the joker, the grump and their very own lovable princess.