Yahya, Randa's husband, appeared in court today. He made no comment about the murder and is being held in custody. I have the feeling he won't say anything about it ever, he seems the type to do that. I don't believe he's a cold blooded killer though, I really don't. I've seen and spoken to him almost every day for the last 7 months and I just don't get that feeling from him. I think something's gone terribly wrong and ended badly. I'm not excusing what he did at all, I hope he gets the maximum sentence when this eventually comes to trial because taking another person's life is unforgivable...technically 2 people's lives because Randa was 3 months pregnant. I feel so sorry for the 2 surviving kids, it's so surreal to think that I'll never again hear them playing on the landing or say hello to them, even see them ever again. They were such gorgeous and happy children too, God knows where they'll end up now.

Another forensic team were in today, we no longer have to sign in and out of the building. Two policemen came at 8.30pm last night to take official statements from us. The worrying thing is that we heard noises that may well have been the actual murder as it took place, and if that is indeed the case then we'll probably have to give evidence in court. I'm absolutely terrified at the thought, but there's nothing I can do about it. We asked how long there would be officers stationed on our landing (they've been here 24 hours a day since it happened) and they intimated that it will be for a considerable time to come, for as long as the crime scene needs to remain 'sterile', i.e, untouched, I suppose. That's likely to be weeks, I should imagine, because they've been here every day and night since Tuesady afternoon when they discovered her body and it shows no signs of letting up. The police told us that it's quite complex, a murder scene, because they have to keep going back even when all the evidence has seemingly been gathered, because statements from witnesses etc may shed new light and they need to come back to verify stuff etc etc... It's a bit poo and a bit awkward having to walk past 2/3 police officers who are just sitting there, every single time you go out the front door, even if I'm just taking laundry to the laundry room on the floor below. I never know what to say to them and they never know what to say to me, so they end up making tacky jokes or just keep their head down or just stare at me. I don't like it at all :(

It's been front page news for days. The weird thing was that the police who took our statements didn't seem to know much more than us, and one of them seemed in awe and was asking us how we felt because he's never had something like this happen to him. How odd for the officer taking your statement to say that! So much for the police having 'seen everything' and being desensitised.

I'm continuing to feel exhausted by the whole situation and so far there's no end in sight. The worst thing is that cases like these can take up to a year or more before they finally come to trial, so potentially I'm going to be plagued by this for an entire year until I get my bit in court over with, if indeed they do call me as a witness, and until then it'll be stressing me out. And even when the whole thing is over it's not something I'm ever gonna forget, I'm always gonna remember it and be haunted by thoughts of it and wonder what became of the 2 kids.

It's unbelievable, it really and truly is.

They removed her body between 4 and 5am this morning and did a post mortem. He bashed her head in, they still haven't found him and actually gave the TV news people his name which was announced on the news tonight. He's now been on the run for about 47 hours so God only knows where he is, but I hope they catch him soon. Not surprisingly the police aren't doing a very good job. Mum's been home all day and they were supposed to come and interview her, and me again, but they didn't bother, which is doubly shocking because we've both got information that might be important. Reporters have been phoning up and ringing the buzzer. I was mentioned by name in The Evening News, I had like 3 whole paragraphs just of what I'd said over the phone to the reporter last night.

They've built a secondary MDF door in front of their flat door, everyone coming in or out of the building is being questioned and made to sign a thing. There's 2 police officers situated on our landing just a few feet from our front door at all times, and it looks as though it's gonna be like this for quite a while, I'd imagine at least until they've caught him, and probably even after that because they'll need to check and recheck the crime scene.

Here's the freaky part... Over the weekend I was feeling more and more tense and incredibly angry for absolutely no reason, and on Sunday night I came out of the bathroom, mum was sitting on the couch and I said "I think someone's been killed in the bathroom". At the time I presumed that if that was true it was in the past, but only 24 hours later Randa was murdered in her bathroom which is directly through the wall from ours. The anger is completely gone now, so I must have been feeling his rage that obviously was building up over the weekend until finally he snapped and bashed his wife's head in. It's the clearest premonition I've ever had, and the first time I've had a waking one, it's always come in dreams before. I guess because they just live 3 feet across the hall and I'm so flanging over-sensitive I was like a sponge soaking it all up.

She was only 34, poor cow. What a horrible way to go. They're Sudanese, we were never sure exactly where they were from and it seemed a bit rude to ask, and irrelevant. Super Chav upstairs was shouting her mouth off to reporters calling Randa 'the asian'. The whole time I was being quizzed by the press it never once seemed important to mention what colour their skin was, I mean for crying out loud what slight bit of difference does that make? It's hardly surprising though that that's the only piece of information a chav like her would deem fit to mention. Then when the 6 o'clock news came on and they were live outside the building she just happened to be going into the building and stood there with her fat chavvy daughter pretending as if she had to be buzzed in, conveniently right in shot live on TV. How low can you go? She's been smiling and laughing throughout the whole ordeal, waving to the camera and hanging out the window so the press pictures get her in the shot. She doesn't even live on this landing! She didn't even know them!

The whole thing has been exhausting. As much as I hate the police, slightly more after this pathetic 'investigation', they look really bored sitting out there so I've been making them cups of tea and coffee. They seemed grateful. It was nice to make myself of use. It really is like being in a prison right now, they went through everyone's binbags, and mum was like "Oh no they'll see all my sweetie wrappers and oh god, what will they think of me!" I calmly pointed out that they're hardly likely to notice or care unless the wrappers are covered in blood. She's so random sometimes.

National Novel Writing Month starts on the 1st, boy do I have a lot to write about!

To be honest it still hasn't sunk in, even seeing all the forensics in white suits going in and out and then seeing the orange body bag didn't make it hit home. I think I'm still in shock because I just never thought him capable. We always knew something wasn't quite right. We've speculated many times about how beaten-down Randa looked on the few occasions we actually saw her because she literally almost never left the flat and we've always thought it was because he wouldn't let her out. But then we weren't sure if it was something to do with their religion. Not that it matters now. Imagine being 6 and 4 years old and finding out that your dad murdered your mum...how awful. I doubt they'll be told anything other than that their mother's dead. They're too young to understand really.

I couldn't sleep until after the body was out because they were so noisy with all their equipment and didn't bother lowering their voices despite the fact that it was the dead of night and people were trying to sleep. I heard when a doctor turned up and was telling the officers all about organ harvesting and where her body would be taken and details I really didn't want to know, I mean blech! Then this little old lady coroner turned up and got the white suit in and went into the crime scene, but it took another 2 hours for them to finally take the body out. I heard them all complaining about how hot it is in there and how it smells really bad. There was a weird smell in the landing until they removed the body, I'm trying not to think about the fact that I was breathing in the fumes from her rapidly decaying body, gives me the shivers. Their letter box didn't have any covering, it never has, so we've always joked about being able to see right into their flat.

I imagine it'll be a hell of a long time before we get new neighbours.

On a completely unrelated note, I've been plunged back into my own tortured past recently because I saw yet another psychologist and when she found out that uncle and granny dearest are still free and almost definitely still raping children and whatnot she said it was her duty to do something about it, as her training dictates. So I had to speak to a children's panel and they tried to force me to go to the police, but as I calmly told the thick bitch, and then repeated over and over, there were already 2 so calles investigations that were both hushed up because some of the perpetrators are in fact police officers, and when a third attempt was made with a different police force, they came back and told us that they weren't going to do anything because if they even attempted to they would all lose their jobs. That's how truly fucked up my family and life is, and why I loathe the police so much.

But anyway, as clearly going down that route is pointless, and as I've been waking up every day of my life angry for the last 8 years and will continue to do so...or to put it another way, since this has and will continue to restrict and fuck up my life, I've decided to take action. I'm either going to go to a newspaper or to a magazine and tell them my story, I really don't care if they offer me money or not, I'm just so sick of being fucked over by the system that loves to bathe itself in glory every time they 'do good' when in fact they are all corrupt, nasty fuckers, I really can't stand it any more. And until I personally have done something of my own volition and on my own behalf, my mental health issues are going to keep going round in their lovely little cycles and I'm gonna be forever stuck and stunted and unable to move on or even live.

God I'm dramatic, but the whole situation is dramatic... This murder is just more drama in my already too-dramatic life. It never ends! There's always something happening, I'm like a magnet! Ugh, I really wish I could hibernate like a squirrel and wake up refreshed and reborn in the spring.

I've been on the Alpha course at Shaun's church and as snobby as this may sound, so far I've gotten nothing from it because the questions they ask in the discussion group are the same questions primary school teachers ask their pupils. I feel a bit guilty because I've been craving church for months now and not for the right reasons. I was hoping to be able to speak privately with a minister or something to try to make sense of my life through God and hopefully find peace. I still want that but I don't know if that's allowed and how to go about it.

Everything is a whirlwind. I don't know right from left any more. The worst thing about this murder is that as mum and I were discussing it I got this wave of cold, almost primeval terror. It was so sudden it knocked me for 6 and must have shown in my face because mum grabbed me and half-screamed "What's wrong what's wrong!". All I could get out was "I'm feeling what she felt I'm feeling what she felt how do I make it stop!". I closed my eyes and asked for it to stop, and like a race car braking suddenly it sort of wound down really fast and then left completely. I can't describe how awful it was, it was worse than any fear I've ever felt. Since then I've been saying in my head 'please shield me from it', I don't know who I'm talking to but it seems to work. Is it God?

I'm such a freak. It may be psychic ability, I don't really care because I'm never gonna be a psychic. In order to do that you have to trust what you get, but more than anything you have to be able to control it and I really really can't, quite laughably so. When I get stuff it's sometimes like being shot with an otherwordly bullet, as quick as whatever it is comes, it goes, and I'm left standing there with an idiotic expression. Or, if it's something scary I usually run straight to my room and leap under my duvet. Aren't duvets wonderful? For some reason they are actually bulletproof, even though everyone knows they're not, they still are. It's funny, kind of the same thing with tea in Britain, it literally can cure everything. When I phoned mum yesterday to tell her there'd been a murder she told me to go and make myself a cup of tea to calm me down. It so does work though...hmm...

I love tea :)

My neighbour was just murdered. I watched through my peephole as they forced their way into the flat, then immediately came back out putting on blue gloves and saying 'suspicious death' a lot. Through many more visits to said peephole I overheard the forensics team being briefed, and this was what was said.... The husband dropped the two kids aged between 4 and 6, at a cousin's house nearby, telling them "mummy is unwell". He hasn't been seen since, and family members grew concerned this morning when neither him nor his wife could be contacted. The woman is in the bath on her left-hand side, head fully submerged with bedclothes scattered on top of her.

I emailed STV news about an hour ago with the information. That probably makes me disgusting, but the cameras are already here and if he sees it on the news maybe he'll come forward. They wanted to interview me but I explained that there's about 7 or 8 police officers at the door and I'd have to sign a thing before they let me out, plus the police don't know that I overheard everything and I don't want to interfere with the investigation or appear suspicious myself.

They only found her body less than 2 hours ago, and I'm still in total shock...what a bastard, and what a shame for those 2 kids. I feel guilty for always complaining to mum about the racket they make when they're playing on the landing and opening and closing our door...although not that guilty cos I couldn't have predicted that their dad would murder their mum, and they are bloody annoying sometimes.

What a damn shame.

Jeezo..

ps, sorry for being absent so long, I was hibernating from myself and when I finally opened my email account I had nearly 800 unread emails, oops. I need to stop being so mentally ill!

Life is strange

Douglas is being clingy as hell, I hope it's not a bad omen, you hear all these stories about animals smelling cancer etc. She paws at my breasticles rather a lot, there better not be anything wrong with them, they still feel ok..

I'm so fed up today, the sister came back from her trip visiting her new victim, I mean man. She doesn't have to be doing anything, just sitting there and still my stress levels are sky high. Her mere presence is enough to grate on my everything. The mother spent most of the evening in her room...if only I had that luxury, I don't even have a room any more so I have to endure it until she decides to go to sleep in the room she stole from me. I HATE it. And there was worrying news about the move today, Lana, the woman whose flat we're getting, had her inspection today and she stupidly told them about her rent arrears, so they're putting a stop to the whole exchange. By law they can't stop it because she's agreed and even taken steps towards paying the council what she owes, but it's a case of forcing them to do what they should anyway by law. Liam, the guy getting our house, has been the puppet master of the whole affair, sorting everyone out. He phoned the council up threatening to go to citizens advice etc etc, and they seemed spooked by that, so hopefully they'll stop being so thrawn and just get on with it. We shall see.

I feel like I'm being slowly strangled and if I don't get out of here soon I'll suffocate to death. It's dire. I need something to take my mind off it all. Half the house is boxed up and the other half is in disarray, we're sort of floating, not quite living here but with nowhere to go as yet. It's very unsettling. I just want to curl into a ball and hibernate until it's all over, then I can wake up in our new flat and start afresh.

I started this mammoth project:

It'll take a couple of years minimum, probably a lot more, but it's ace so I don't mind. The chart is 64 pages... indeed..
And there's another one I have all kitted up but I don't know when I'll start it:

It's slightly smaller, like 49 pages, but still mahoooooosive. I'm doing them tent stitch 2-over-1 though so it won't take nearly as long as the 1-over-1 cross stitch the chart recommends, but still very epic. I only managed 200 stitches tonight, which is poor show, but I was just so annoyed cos there was stuff everywhere and I had nowhere comfortable to sit and nowhere to put my threads and chart and scissors, and then there was the sister sitting across from me looking all....sisterish in her own infuriating way. It was GAY, and not in the good way. I can't seem to concentrate on anything just now.

..in more ways than one. I feel like such a waste of space. I have no future when I really think about it, I've failed in every attempt at further education, and as if that wasn't bad enough I didn't even finish high school. It wasn't for lack of intelligence, it was just my crappy bloody head that got in the way. I was sat there bored and abused in a mental hospital while they were all finishing up and going to the leaver's dance and what have you, but even then I didn't feel quite so low as I do now, because I was 17 then and I thought there was hope for the future. Now I'm a jobless sponging 22 year-old with nothing to look forward to and no prospects. My sister just finished her second degree, my mother is just now finishing her degree and about to start a PHD, and I've got nothing but Standard Grades to my name.

It wouldn't be so bad if I knew what I'm supposed to do, but I haven't a clue. I just sit in the house all day stitching and hoping inspiration will hit. If I carry on like this I'm gonna wake up one day and realise I just wasted an entire life, and with nothing to show for it but a house full of embroidered pictures. How utterly sad would that be?

I'm just so pathetic, I hate being a burden to the mother but I don't know what to do to make it better. I'm stuck and I don't know how to change it. I don't even have any friends, not counting the ones online. I'm so bloody desperate to appear normal that I even got back in contact with The Morven, who sponged and leeched off me, used and abused my friendship and help and advice, then ruined my 21st birthday with a spectacular hissy fit worthy of any spoilt 2 year-old. I mean what grown-up actually kicks another in the leg and then stomps off? I have no desire to see her ever again, but at least she would be something, a real-life person in my world, as much as I hate her.

It's all so bloody depressing and bleak. I'm too miserable to even hurt myself, thanks to the fecking pills the urge to do that has practically disappeared. At least that would be something I could do that I know would work, would calm me down and give me back a sense of control, but I'm denied even that.

I just don't want to be here. I haven't felt this way for a long time. I get down and miserable, but it's been ages since I wished I just wasn't here. I honestly can't see any point to my life. I do no one any good whatsoever, I'm just a burden, I hold people back and it would be great to free them from that. Carrying on the way I am is pointless, such a waste of time and life.

I keep panicking and it's horrible, I'm terrified of all the time I've wasted and all the time still left to waste. I wish I knew what I'm supposed to do with it because I can't live like this any more. It's not even living, it's barely existing. The most depressing thing of all is that only I can change things. How can I do that if I don't know how, and if I don't have the means to do it?

I just don't want to be here, I'm sick of being alone and I'm even sicker being miserable. I used to think there was someone out there who could help me, but I know now there isn't. I'm sick of everything. It would be so much better for everyone if I didn't wake up tomorrow.

Just the top to do and then it's another finish under my belt, woo! Definitely the most intricate thing I've done so far, and the most oldie-worldy, but I plan to rectify that with a mahoosive heaven and earth design. Kinda scared cos it's all over 1 which is truly miniscule and my eyes hate me, so trying to find the perfect HPI without going too large and pixelated. I'm gonna do one of the smaller heaven and earth designs first I think, probably on 20 ct aida and if it looks ok I'll do the big one on the same. Not sure which one that'll be yet, but it's all practice for this:

Scary biscuits..

What a boring entry
XD

I finally finished it! Well, I've only been working on it a shortish time, a fortnight or so I think, but at times it was a round-the-clock job so it feels like much longer. I'm happy with how it turned out, and hopefully Dave & Eilidh will be too, whoever they are.

All that's left to do is frame it. I bought a mahooooooosive piece of mounting board that I'll have to cut up but I think I'll leave that til tomorrow. Now I can get back to other much neglected things..

I wish Michael Powell's cross stitch kits weren't soooooooooooooooooooo bloody expensive :( On the upside tho, I joined his site and downloaded a load of little free charts, and entered the competition so hopefully I'll win. It seems as tho some of his kits aren't available any more, like English Village 1, the second one is on his site (and soooooo kool) but the first one isn't, I found it on some american sites for silly money but I refuse to pay that much. There's a few charts being flogged on ebay, charts which, if they weren't michael powell would go for like 99p, but because he's so sought after they're like £6.99+.....how depressing. They're not even the designs I liked, I'm still gonna bid on them tho.......who needs food anyway.

Every single shop I've gone into in the last few weeks has been completely sold out of this DS game I want. Something about a Curious Village and a Professor...I got sucked in by the advert where they're trying to divide up the cute wee sheep with 3 lines...anywho, it got to the point where I was beyond frustrated, then I slowly lost the will to live, and now I'm resigned to the fact that I'll have to wait until it's restocked and loses some popularity. There are some on ebay but with stuff like that I prefer getting it from a proper shop because if it's faulty or something you can take it back, and I don't trust ebay with electrical things cos you just never know where it's coming from.

God I'm a sad git XD

I just completed this, which I started like a year ago:


This took longer than I thought but it turned out pretty good, twas very trial-and-error though:


I've no idea if anyone will buy this crap I spend so much of my time making, but I certainly hope so!

XD

So, in the spirit of doing something rather than nothing, while I wait for the whole proofreading course thingy to come together I have decided to open (is that the correct word?) a shop on Etsy, selling cross stitches I've done/designed and probably some drawings as and when I do any. It seems quite a sensible thing to do, because if I scour charity shops and Sunday markets (or flea markets as they're called in America) I can buy old pictures for really cheap, discard the picture and use the frames to frame my own stuff. It'll be so much cheaper than buying frames in shops, and more fun, plus it's recycling (kind of) and that's always good. Of course, there's always the fear that no one will want anything I've made, but I'm willing to take that chance, it'll be fun I think. Cards and wee ornaments seem to sell very well on etsy so I shall endeavor to investigate ways to do that. The mother used to make cards with her artwork on them so I shall enlist her expertise, lol

I've stitched one thing already for Etsy but I'll have to find the right frame for it, it's actually a vibrant purple, the camera is awful colour-wise but I thought the design turned out quite cute, and cute sells, so fmeh..


Anyone looking at my life would probably think "God, how sad". But I find joy in the most insignificant things and I kinda like that, so I don't care what people think. I never wanted a flashy life anyway, all I want is to be able to make a difference in my own way and hopefully make people happy some day, in any small way, even with a cross stitch XD

Bulldoggy is finally done, yay!

It's so satisfying to finish a cross stitch, especially when it's framed. Hopefully the person it's for will like it.

Now I can put all my powers of concentration into nanowrimo and hopefully reach the target in time. 50,000 words seems a lot but it would actually be a fairly shortish book, depending on what you consider to be short. I persuaded the sister to join too but I don't think she's particularly serious about it, she'll last a few days at most I reckon. I can also now go back to a couple of other cross stitch projects that need finished. One is just about done and another has quite a bit to go, it'll just be nice to get back to using bright coloured threads, shades of grey and brown can get a little frustrating and dull. Can't argue with the end result though.

The plan is to have it finished by Tuesday, what with the impending guest, but it's not looking good, it'll probably take longer. :( But it's turning out sooooo good, I'm almost unwilling to part with it, but I must.

Let the geekdom commence....

This is a bulldog I'm stitching for someone. I started it yesterday so not too much progress as yet, but it's been fun to stitch so far. It's all whole stitches which is nice and simple, and unlike some whole-stitch designs I think it's gonna turn out very detailed and impressive looking despite the lack of backstitching. I can't wait to see it finished!

And on another geeky note, the television gods actually produced an interesting and unique program called Lost in Austen about a girl who finds herself literally inside Pride and Prejudice. Not sure how many parts the series is gonna have but it's been brilliant so far, it's so rare to find anything different on telly these days, so it's mightily refreshing. I wish they'd do a third series of The Book Group, but I think that ship has sailed.....ah well.

On the 14th of September it'll be 3 years since I got my Douglas. In the cat protection centre it was actually her whore of a sister Rosie that won me over XD, but it didn't take long to realise that it was the fat, damaged, painfully timid shadow that came with her that would win my heart. Everyone instantly loves Rosie because she's terribly pretty:








The only problem is she KNOWS she's damn fine looking! She's such a diva, and she doesn't like me very much, but I don't mind because I have my Douglas. I can't begin to describe how much I love my Douglas, she gives me a reason to get up in the morning. When I first got her she hid behind the fridge for 2 days, shaking with fear, but I slowly coaxed her out and within a few weeks she was a completely different cat. Now she follows me everywhere, literally! When I'm in the bathroom she lies outside the door waiting for me, when I'm cooking in the kitchen she sits at me feet, when I'm sitting on the couch she always jumps right up into my lap, and at night she sleeps on my head. It's probably not healthy to be so attached to an animal, but she deserves to be treated like a princess because she was abused in her last home and still shows the signs, sometimes she flinches if you touch her unexpectedly, and she cowers if someone yells at her. If I didn't love her no one else would, which is so sad.




The other day a dog I know had to be put to sleep. The news was horrible to receive because the dog's owner adores her animals and when her last dog had to be put down it nearly killed her. I cringe when I hear these things, I know Douglas isn't immortal but there's no way I could be there if the same had to be done to her, I just couldn't do it, I want to cry just thinking about it. But...she's only around 7 so I won't have to think about that for a long time yet, fingers crossed.

I so want to just get it over with, but it also has to be done the right way with everything perfect. It can't be done any time with any random qualities, it has to be right. It just seems like an eternity, but I don't want to mess it up and have it haunt me for years to come. The thought of it is terrifying and exhilarating. Whenever it seems like a good opportunity has come it just doesn't stick because the other piece is too far away and I don't know how to communicate my thoughts without sounding narrow-minded. I'm trying not to get my hopes up this time, even though it's progressed further than ever before, because if the finished outcome isn't what I hoped for I'll just feel crushed and frustrated all over again and I'm sick of feeling like that. I'm just finding it so hard to be human, it's like I forgot how to do it somewhere along the way and I can't seem to retrace my footsteps, hard as I try. And THIS, this is the pinnacle of the whole mess, because if I could just see it through then I'd be back from orbit, but it never seems to happen and I don't know if it's because I subconsciously sabotage it through fear, or because it's never been the right time. There are only two things that are essential: the other piece has to be equally new, and it has to hail from a specific place in the world. This new opportunity has both these things, with the only barrier being traveling distance as it's located over 400 miles away, but I don't see that has to be an issue.
I'm excited this time in a more genuine way because I'm expressing more of myself and letting other traits have free reign where before they were forever concealed, and it seems to be the right way to go, and funnily enough it feels more like the real me...

Konnichiwa, hajimemashite etc..
I'm horribly vexed, for weeks I've been looking forward to the Olympics and seeing Shunsuke in lycra *mmm*, but yesterday I found out he didn't qualify, two other smegs competed instead. It's all so unfair. Hopefully this means he'll definitely be in the next Sasuke, which should be next month sometime. If I wasn't so poor I'd fly to Japan, stalk him silly and convince him to marry me, but alas, my pauper's life prevents such a junrei *sinks to knees and pounds floor in frustration*.
It's now 3 1/2 weeks since my boob job and my stitches are a bit infected. The doctor gave me a week of antibiotics but as soon as they were finished I started feeling crappy again. I phoned the doctor and tried to blag a repeat prescription because I can't be bothered going back, so fingers crossed it works, because if it doesn't I'll have to leave the house and that would be gay.
Why are the Olympics so addictive? The thought of competing can seem glamorous until you look at some of the athletes, the gymnasts resemble ironing boards, the swimmers all have coathanger shoulders, the cyclists have chunky thighs and the weightlifters are built like tanks. Super-human, it seems, can sometimes mean super-ugly.

But not always...