这是一段美兰妮的心灵独白，既充满着一个成长少女的迷惘，又有着小女孩的活泼，试试看，你能将这段文字译得准确、练达而又生动吗？

　　Once upon a time, I lived on a gorgeous blue-green planet called Earth. I didn't stay long, thirteen years and twenty-two hours max. But it often felt a whole Jot Longer. That's because I was in a perpetual state of panic. It would take too long to list all the things I was scared of. There were all the normal human anxieties obviously: spiders, dentists, exams. Plus those typical teen twitches, worrying that I looked fat or had evil-smelling breath or that I'd been walking around the school with my skirt trapped in my knickers. These were just my background worries! The bass line for the heavy stuff.

　　But one fear was so humiliating that I never admitted it to anybody.

　　I was petrified of being by myself. I knew it was nuts, even at the time. Loneliness can't actually kill you, right? But the minute I was alone, I literally felt myself dissolving with terror. My home felt SO empty. Even with the TV on full blast. Even when I called my mates and kept them talking for hours on the phone. Even ill made butterscotch-flavoured popcorn and pigged the lot. Even - well, you get the picture.

　　It all started when my dad walked out. Naturally I started worrying that Mum would be next to abandon me. Every time she left the flat, I knew she was going to get mashed in a road accident and I'd be taken into care. But she didn't and I wasn't, and eventually she met my lovely stepdad Des. After we all moved in together I let myself relax for a whole twenty-four hours. Ohh, it was bliss! But next day, EEP! I was back on Red Alert. Only now I was panicking about Des dying in the same tragic car wreck. Plus a few months later, my baby sister was born, so then I had to add her to my panic list too.

　　But that's all ancient history. These clays you'll find me living happily on the other side of those famous Pearly Gates. I know! Unbelievable isn't it? It

　　was actually me who died, which is about the one scenario that never occurred to me! I just wish I could go on Oprah and broadcast an inspirational messa9e to the stressed-out Mel Beebys of this world.

　　"Go with the flow, babes," I'd tell them. "No matter what happens, you can handle it. You're ALL 9oin9 to be fine!" And to prove it, I'd show them some feel-good foota9e from my personal video diary.

　　To a cool hip hop soundtrack, you see this like, MTV monta9e of me and my mates, shoppin9 in our favourite department stores, paddlin9 on the seashore and dancin9 the night away at the Babylon Caf& At the end I'm by myself. The camera pulls back to show my friend Lola Sanchez watchin9 as I sashay throu9h the school gates. "At first glance, Melanie Beeby looks like any normal schoolgirl," she tells the viewer. "But appearances can be deceptive and this is no ordinary school."

　　The camera focuses on a si9n sayin9 Angel Academy in shimmery letters, then zooms in on the angel Iogo on the gates. Next minute there's a new close-up of the identical Io9o, only this one is on my cute midriff T-shirt. I 9~ floatin9 throu9h the school in 9raceful slow-mo, chattin9 and lau9hin9 with my mates.

　　Then CUT! Lola and I are sipping strawberry smoothies at Guru, our favourite student hang-out.

　　"I used to think of death as the ultimate tragedy," I confide in my friend. "Like this scary black hole that swallowed you up for ever? But the fact is, dying totally improved my life. Naturally I was upset to leave my family," I add hastily. "But at my old school I'd got this reputation for being a real bimbo. One teacher called me 'an airhead with attitude'."

　　Lola pulls a face into the camera. "Yeah, Miss Rowntree!" she says cheekily. "And look at her now!"

　　"I was so amazed when I got to Heaven and found I'd won a scholarship to the Angel Academy!" I giggle. "Someone must have thought I had hidden depths!"

　　Now Lola and I are walking past the school library. It's made of glass and looks a bit like a lighthouse, only with magic cloud effects scudding over the walls.

　　"We don't think of ourselves as pupils," I say into the camera. "We're trainees. And if we make the grade we'll be the celestial agents of the future, which has to be the coolest job ever."

　　The scene dissolves, and we're in the middle of a science class. Mr AIIbright is demonstrating a new technique for beaming celestial vibes. After a few attempts, everyone successfully materialises a wobbly sphere of 9olden light above his or her cupped palms. We all look v. intellectual, especially Lola, who's wearin9 cute little 9old 91asses.

　　This time it's my voice on the soundtrack. "Lollie is my best friend," I tell the world happily. "She's the soul-mate I've been Iongin9 for my whole life, which is incredible as originally she's from my future! Angel trainees can come from every period of Earth's history. Oh, except for pure angels like my buddy Reuben here."

　　The camera drops in on a martial arts class, where a skinny, honey-coloured boy is performin9 a sequence of ninja angel moves. He looks focused, yet v. endearin9 with his little dreads whippin9 around his head.

　　CUT! It's sunset and the whole class is sittin9 on the beach in the lotus position. The sun slips down into the ocean, beamin9 rosy rays across our faces. A musical throbbin9 builds on the soundtrack, soundin9 like some huge divine hummin9 top.

　　I say, "This is the first sound I heard after I left my body and found myself in Heaven. I call it my cosmic lullaby, because it makes me feel really safe and secure. You see, life really doesn't end when you die! The truth is, it just 9ets better and better!"

　　At this point though, my video diary totally runs out of steam.

　　Diaries are meant to tell the truth and I'm not sure mine is 9ivin9 a true picture. Perhaps you didn't notice, but in tryin9 to focus on the bright side, I accidentally make my school look like a Pepsi commercial. Like, I never once mention the Dark Powers. I also 9ive the impression that I'm finally sorted (yeah, ri9ht!).

　　But like our teacher says, bein9 an angel is not about bein9 perfect. It's about bein9 real. So I want you to for9et all about that phony Pepsi Heaven, because I'm about to tell you the uncut, unvarnished, totally un91amorous story of my last assignment.

　　But first, to help you understand what happened, I've 9or to tell you about Brice.

　　I ran into Brice on my very first trouble-shootin9 mission to Earth. At that time he was workin9 for the PODS (that's what my mates and I call the Powers of Darkness). I won't lie to you, I hated him on sight. It didn't help that this cosmic Iow-life was the exact double of a really buff boy I once fancied at my old school, ri9ht down to the bleached hair and bad-boy slouch.

　　Anyway, without 9oin9 into the sordid details, I 9or the better of him. After that Brice became like, my evil nemesis or whatever, because he turned up a9ain on our mission to Tudor En91and. This time he beat our buddy Reuben up so badly that Reubs had to be airlifted back home. He's still 9ot a hu9e scar.

　　Now I've convinced you that Brice belon9s firmly on the dark side of the cosmic fence, ri9ht? Unfortunately, it's not that simple.

　　You see, once upon a time, Brice was an an9el like me.

　　I know, it's too disturbin9 for words. I don't understand why it seems more shockin9 for a Li9ht Worker to 9~ over to the Opposition than if he'd been bad from the be9innin9, but it does.

　　I'm not 9oin9 to 9et into why Brice sold his soul to the PODS. But the A9ency obviously believed there were extenuatin9 circumstances, because last term, after complex negotiations with the Opposition (that's the official A9ency term for the Dark Powers), they brou9ht Brice in from the cold. And next thin9 I know, bosh! He's back at school. They actually had him workin9 on the Guardian An9el hotline, would you believe!

　　Our headmaster explained that the Agency has to take the long-term view. He also said a heap of other stuff, about Eternity and how if you wait long enough trees sometimes evolve into diamonds. It was an excellent speech, but I still thought Brice was a jerk.

　　Luckily he was keeping totally out of my way. I'd catch glimpses of him at various student hang-outs, but he was always on his own and never stayed longer than a few minutes. Once I bumped into him mooching around the stacks in the school library. And another time I saw him on the beach, chucking pebbles at the sea, looking incredibly depressed.

　　The boy's a freak, I thought smugly. He can't hack the Hell dimensions and he can't stand Heaven. I bet he won't make it to the end of term.

　　Basically I couldn't wait for Brice to let everyone down again and go slinking back to the Opposition. Then I could pretend the creep never existed and life could go back to how it was before.

　　Then summer came and things took a totally unexpected turn.

　　I only have myself to blame for what happened. Lola was desperate for me to spend the holidays with her, in the heavenly interior doing adventure activities. "Everyone says you come back totally transformed," she enthused. "We'll be like angel warriors! The PODS won't know what hit them!"

　　But I'm not the bungee-jumping type, and anyway I'd promised to help out at the preschoolers' summer camp. So at the end of term, we went our separate ways.

　　For the first few days I literally felt like I was missing a limb.

　　Every time I went into town I'd leave a message for Lollie on the Link - the angel internet. But days and weeks went by and she still didn't reply.

　　I told myself she must be holidaying somewhere remote, where they hadn't even heard of internet cafés. But I wasn't convinced. I mean, we're both angels, right? Normally I know the instant she's thinking about me. Yet I was getting this permanently 'ENGAGED' signal, as if my soul- mate's thoughts had drifted totally elsewhere.

　　Luckily with thirty hyperactive angel tots to take care of, I didn't have time to mope. Days whizzed by in a blur of activity: picnics on the beach, treasure hunts among the dunes, trips to the Sugar Shack for home-made ices. Until finally it was our last day. Since we'd worked so hard, Miss Dove told us we could have a couple of hours off.

　　Picture me lying in a hammock in the afternoon sunshine, listening to the soothing whisper of waves from the beach below, my eyes glued to a spine- chilling novel I'd found in our holiday cottage. From nearby came a babble of excited little voices as the toddlers tried to guess the mystery objects in Miss Dove's special magic ba9.

　　I heard the creak of a hammock and Amber sat up. "Boy, you've really got the bug," she yawned. You were reading Sherlock Holmes last time I looked!"

　　"Finished it last night," I mumbled.

　　My reading marathon started out of sheer self defence. After a hard day keeping up with the tinies, I needed to flake out and relax. Unfortunately Amber and the other volunteers were bursting to hold lengthy midnight discussions on various deep angelic issues. I didn't want to hurt their feelings, so I had to pretend to be fascinated by the mildewed book collection in my attic bedroom. I guess I must have been quite bored, because one book led to another and I was now shamelessly addicted - my current read had me totally mesmerised! You would not believe the things that happened to that heroine. First both her parents die in a storm at sea. Then her relatives pack her off to a typhoid-ridden boarding school on the moors, so they can cheat her out of her rightful inheritance. I was desperate to know how it would turn out.

　　Suddenly shrieks of excitement made me look up.

　　"YAYY!! I guessed right!" Next minute little Maudie landed on top of me. My hammock wobbled madly, tipping both of us on the ground, and I found myself buried under a heap of giggling preschool angels.

　　But finally the clay was over and my fellow volunteers and I tottered back to our cottage at the top of the cliffs. It was still really warm so we ate outdoors, watching the lighthouse wink on and off across the bay.

　　Out of the blue, Amber said, "So have you guys decided where you're going yet?"

　　For the second time that day I came back to reality with a bump.

　　"Omigosh!" I gasped. "1 can't believe I forgot!"

　　Mr AIIbright had announced that the History students would be going on a field trip at the beginning of the new term; a trip with a twist. We had to pick an era in human history which interested us. If the Agency approved, we'd be assigned a suitable human from that time period and we'd go to Earth to study them in their natural context.

　　That's what I think is SO cool about my school. We don't just learn history from books, we visit historical eras for real. I'm serious, we literally travel in Time!

　　This time we were supposed to be working in groups of three, something to do with power triangles or whatever. I naturally assumed I'd be in a three with my fellow cosmic musketeers, Lollie and Reuben. But it had been a v. stressful term and my frazzled mates couldn't seem to agree on anything.

　　Lola had insisted we went back to ancient Persia where she'd done her Guardian Angel module. And Reuben had this bizarre fixation with King Arthur and his Round Table.

　　"I hate to burst your bubble, hon," I said, "but the King Arthur thing is just a story. Camelot never actually existed."

　　As a pure angel Reuben often finds it hard to grasp quite basic concepts, such as the difference between human history and fairy tales. In the end my mates grumpily informed me that they'd leave our destination entirely up to moi. And I'd immediately put it to the back of my mind. After all, I had the whole summer in front of me.

　　Only now the holidays were over and I still hadn't thought of a destination. You see, I wanted it to be somewhere truly amazing. I mean, I wanted my mates to have a great time, but most of all I wanted to wow them with my super de luxe five-star decision-making. Unfortunately under that kind of pressure my mind turns to pink bubblegum, incapable of making even weedy one-star decisions!

　　Yikes! I wasn't even back at school yet but my stress levels were soaring dangerously. So I took myself off to have a calming read in the bath.

　　I lit a small army of candles, climbed into the old- fashioned tub, lay back in the hot water and settled down to finish my mystery. The pages started going wavy in the steam, but I refused to budge until the evil rellies got their just desserts. At last I closed the book with a sigh of satisfaction. Then I shot bolt upright, sending bath foam everywhere. I'd had the most fantabulous idea!

　　I towelled myself dry, put on my cute Treat me like a Princess T-shirt and flew into my room to investigate my antique book collection.

　　Every title gave me goosebumps! The Story of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, The Woman in White, Collected Ghost Stories by Charles Dickens, and most spine-tingling of all, real-life reports of the case of Jack the Ripper! And all these books were written in the exact same era. Victorian times. Well, was that a sign, or was that a sign?

　　I grabbed the Ripper book and screwed my eyes tight shut. "Just give me a date," I muttered. "Any date will do." I opened the book at random and peeped out from under my lashes.

　　There it was, bang in the middle of the page. 1888!

　　By total fluke, I'd found the perfect destination for our time trip. Lola, Reubs and I could do a spot of enjoyable time-tourism, plus we'd collect enough info on social conditions and whatever to satisfy our teacher.

　　Now I could relax and enjoy the last few hours of my holiday with a clear conscience. I was so impressed with myself, it never occurred to me that my

　　mates might not be as thrilled with my idea as I was!

　　Have you noticed how the moments you most look forward to are so often the ones that are a total let-down?

　　The instant I got back to school, I hurtled along to Lollie's room to tell her the good news, but she still hadn't returned from her adventure holiday. So I dashed along to my room and called Reuben's number. Reuben had to be back. Only he wasn't.

　　I collapsed on to my narrow bed and gazed out over the heavenly rooftops. It was evening and lights were coming on all over the city, like sprinkles of little stars. But tonight this beauty just made me feel depressed. "Hi, I'm back," I told my empty room. And then I said, "Well, can't sit about here all day."

　　I unpacked my bags, singing along to my current lave single, a sweet little hip hop track called True Colours. After that, I had a shower, drying and conditioning my hair slowly and carefully. And after that, I gave my little orange tree some overdue TLC, lovingly polishing every leaf with Leaf Shine. But there was still no sign of Lola.

　　"I'll lie down for a minute," I told myself. "1 won't go to sleep. I'll just rest my eyes."

　　But the next thing t knew, my room was full of dazzling celestial sunlight. Someone had posted a message under my door while I was sleeping. With a rush of happiness I recognised Lola's handwriting.

　　My soul-mate was back in town!

　　Guru's chef must have been making their special chocolate brownies when I arrived, because the cafe smelled divine.

　　I heard a husky chuckle and spotted my friend's mad dark curls over by the window. She was chatting to some real outdoor types, looking incredibly pretty in a cute red dress I'd never seen before.

　　Pure happiness fizzed up inside me. I planned to sneak up and put my hands over her eyes. Ta da!

　　Before I could reach her, Brice burst through the kitchen doors, waving a bottle of maple syrup. "Here you are, princess! You can't eat pancakes without maple syrup." He sat down beside her, draping an arm round the back of her chair.

　　I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

　　"This isn't happening!" I whispered. But it was.

　　My best friend and my old enemy were an item.

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