Once upon a time, in a small inconsequential room in the middle of an inconsequential town, a scream made itself known. That scream was attached to a newborn, painting the hospital room with it's cries. It was a cry that told the world 'I'm here!' and continued long into the night, even after the infant's screams had subsided.

The child grew, evolving from blankness with all the potential into the world, into a girl with a name and face and a life. She grew, passing through infancy with ease and confidence. Confidence is however a funny thing, something that can be so easily broken. And Children's taunting insults are the most dangerous weapons of all. The girl fell inside herself as she grew, turning away from the world and to the realms of impossibility that lay with her mind and the characters that inhabited paper and ink.

Children never move past what happens during those crucial years of school, it makes them what they are and shapes them into the adults they will one day be. Even as a sixteen year old, I realise that.

I don't pretend to be a philosophical wonder, or some tortured genius. But my life has shaped who I am, how my mind works and, as a result, what my writing is like.

So, who am I? Harriet, nice to meet you, and thankyou for reading through the odd wanderings of my brain. I'm sixteen, English (And not too fond of the crumpets and cricket and bad teeth stereotypes, thankyou very much). I'm introverted, I guess, and my laptop is the thing I spend the most time with. I love my family, I love my friends, I love words.

Maybe you've skipped by this, but I believe it's nice to get to know the mind that's writing the stories you're reading. I often peruse biographies on this website after reading the stories. Even if you did, I'm not judging. I ramble a lot, I know, but I like to write so I enjoy this.

Okay, so, anyway...Something not from my brain now:

When you're handed lined paper, write the opposite way - The Lovely Bones

It doesn't matter what I think, it doesn't matter what I feel; the dead are still dead - The Reader

Conflict of opinion can make for more interesting relationships than common interests - Industrial Magic

Merlin: Listen to me...
Arthur: You know me Merlin, I never listen to you. - Merlin

Don't you understand? He's pulling our strings, and we're all dancing like his own little puppets. There's nothing we're doing that he didn't plan out in advance, ten moves deep. You have us playing checkers, and he's playing three-dimensional chess - Dark Origins

I was curious. Since I'm not a cat, I don't think it's dangerous - House M.D

I, myself, have been going out with him since the 12th century. Or possibly since last week; it's hard to keep track. Because how are you supposed to measure time with the man that you want to spend the rest of your life with? What would make sense? Centuries? Nanoseconds? - Coupling

And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress; adventure - Harry Potter

Leslie: Wait, are you asking me out?
Leonard: I was going to characterize it as the modification of our colleague-slash-friendship paradigm with the addition of a date-like component, but we don't need to quibble over terminology. - The Big Bang Theory

He must have loved her so incredibly hard. So hard ... that he would never ask for her lips again and would go to his grave without them - The Book Thief

First things first…but not necessarily in that order. - Doctor Who

Arthur: I wanted you to know that I never doubted you. All right, maybe I did, but it's your own fault. You've got a suspicious look about you. Shifty. Like you've got something to hide.
Merlin: I'm an open book.
Arthur: I don't believe that for a second. - Merlin

Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught. - Oscar Wilde

Language is a strange thing, but she's my mistress - Stephen Fry

Can I keep you? - Casper

- Anyway, below are the figments of my imagination. Some are embarrassing, written by the twelve-year-old who found this website, and should probably be banished to the recycling bin. But I just can't bring myself to delete them. (Oh, God, I do so hate sentimentality) But some are getting better, as the sixteen year old's imagination continues to grow.

What's a life without imagination, anyway?