So, last night I had a dream. I dreamt that Lorrie and Megan were both terminally ill with cancer. Then Lorrie died, and I wasn't allowed into the funeral. Then me and Josh went to school, and Megan hadn't turned up, so we decided to go to her house to check she was still alive, and we walked and walked but never got any closer to her house, then Josh wasn't there anymore, and I was walking by myself, but I wasn't walking along a pavement anymore, I was walking in blackness, on something that wasn't there with nothingness all around me.
I woke up crying, and it took me a few moments to realise neither Lorrie or Megan are terminally ill.
At school, no-one knows about the doctors appointment. Everyone was going around their daily life as if there was nothing wrong. Claire kept on talking about some boring dream she had, but it was just about a cake, nothing serious or frightening about it. Then she was talking about other stuff, and I was just like "Do I care?" But I couldn't tell her that. Also, Roxanne was ill, which made it a whole lot easier to act all like everything was OK. Lorrie was not in again as well.
But Megan, Rhys, Anjali & Josh really are amazing. By the end of the day I had almost completely forgotten about the whole mole thing. I think Megan knew something wasn't quite right, occasionally my hand would absent-mindedly go up and cover my mole, and I think she caught me once or twice.
But walking home was a nightmare, we'd just had football in PE, and when I got off the bus, my legs felt like jelly. Like they usually do when you've just got off the sofa after you've been ill. I staggered home, then came straight up to bed. All those thoughts came rushing back to me while I was walking home. I cheered myself up thinking about Jack Bisley in German. That boy is a joker. If I was hot, I would actually marry him, he has the nicest bum in the world. Phwoah.
Anyway, stuff to do. See ya. Bron x [This is 1994 figures, the year I was born]