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mentioned you in a comment:

I look at the notification on my Instagram account and click on the comment. I roll my eyes as I see that my best friend, Saffron, or Saff as I call her, has tagged me in yet another post.

I swear, this girl tags me on competition posts every single day. I'm always getting notifications that she's commented my name on a 'TAG YOUR FRIENDS TO WIN...' post.

What is it this time?

I barely look at the post, all I see is 'DREAM HOLIDAY IN SWITZERLAND'. I close the app and get back to the task at hand; finding me a job.

Scrolling through the job website, I groan with frustration. There's nothing for me, nothing catches my eye.

My degree is in Events management and there's no business for that around here. I've only had two weddings in the last four months. It's getting dire.

I know it is because my town is too small.

I need to move somewhere like London, where there are more people with more money to spend on frivolous events.

The afternoon passes and I am unsuccessful in finding a single well-paid job that I actually want to do.

Just as I am beginning to give up hope, my laptop makes a 'ping' sound, indicating that I have a new email.

I open the window and click on the message.

You have been selected to move to Stage 2 of our holiday prize competition.

To move to the next stage, all you have to do is accept our follow request on Instagram.

1. Load up the Instagram app

2. Navigate to your notifications page and find the follow request from

3. Accept the follow request and wait for an email from a member of our team

Thank you and good luck!

I frown as I read the message. Usually, I would think it was spam, but Saff literally just tagged me in a post on this person's page.

How did they get my email?

I call my best friend, she picks up after one ring.

'What's up, bestie?' She drawls contently.

'Hey. You know that competition post you tagged me on? I've just had an email from them,' I tell her and she squeals excitedly.

'Oh, amazing! What did it say?'

'It told me to follow them on Insta. But Saff, how did they get my email?' I ask her and she giggles.

'The page messaged me and asked for our emails so that we could move to the next stage! Quickly, go follow them and we can move to Stage 3!'

I resist rolling my eyes.

'Stage 3? What is this?'

'Stage 3 in the competition, duh. Did you not read the competition post? God sake, Amity, you need to read the things I tag you in!'

'If I did that, it would take up all of my time. Excuse me for not spending my precious time reading competition posts about winning a makeover, or a new sofa or free nails for a month,' I reply sarcastically and Saff scoffs at me.

'Precious time? You're unemployed, single and bored.'

'Jeez, thanks for reminding me.'

'Stop complaining, Am, and just follow the damn page!'

She hangs up shortly after and despite huffing with irritation, I follow the stupid holiday page. I don't bother to read the post, they all say the same things anyways.

I watch a romantic film and cry like the single loser I am. It's been almost a year since I was last in a relationship and I miss it so much. I hate being single, it sucks.

I get into bed early, wanting the comfort of my duvet. I check my emails and see that I have another one from that holiday company.

You have been selected to move to Stage 3 of our holiday prize competition.

To complete this stage, all you have to do is fill in the form attached, as honestly as possible.

Take your time choosing your answers, we want to know the real you.

Email the completed form back to us for a chance to be one of our winners!

My brows furrow as I click on the attachment. It is a questionnaire with almost 100 questions.

Why on earth do they need to know this much about me, purely for a holiday competition?

It must be to collect data for their company. They probably think they can improve sales if they know their customer base better.

With nothing better to do, I wriggle further into my pillow and begin answering the questionnaire.

The questions start simple;

I answer them all easily. Then, the questions start to get more in depth.

As strange as it is, answering such personal questions, I really get into it. I haven't been on a date in forever, and that's usually when you talk about these things. It's nice to answer these questions, to be able to reflect on my life.

I frown and get a little creeped out as the questions become stranger.

Vampire, werewolf, witch, zombie, dragons.

What a weird question.

I randomly choose vampire, seeing as I've been binge-watching the Vampire Diaries recently.

I choose hetero and the next question pops up.

Money, Looks, Sense of Humour, Intelligence, Kindness, Confidence

It's difficult, but I swap around the order to; Kindness, Sense of Humour, Intelligence, Looks, Confidence, Money.

I bite my bottom lip as I think of them. I use some of the ones from the previous question.

1. Humour

2. Intelligence

3. Affection

4. Loyalty

5. Confidence

.

What kind of a question is that?

I consider it and type out my answer. Tall (5"8 and above), muscular but not a deal-breaker, just in shape, dark hair, any colour eyes, any skin colour but preferable non-white.

Are they even allowed to ask that? It's a bit...shallow? Racist? I don't know.

I mull the question over for a moment. What would I want from a relationship, other than companionship?

My cheeks flush as I type my cheesy answer; Commitment. I want someone who will be there for me whenever I need support. Someone I can rely on to always have my back.

I quickly scroll onto the next question.

This one is easy.

Trust, communication and dedication.

The next few questions are longer. They give detailed scenarios between various couples and ask for my thoughts afterwards.

In one, a man buys his girlfriend some flowers and an expensive diamond necklace. Then, it asks whether you would be pleased with that gift, or if you would have wanted something else.

My answer says that, although I'd be grateful for the gift, diamonds don't do it for me. I'd rather have been surprised with a cheeseburger or a bar of chocolate, to be honest.

I frown again.

These are such specific questions! Why do they need to know this?

I shrug to myself and reply, because honestly, I'm really getting into this.

My answer; A holiday. If he has to spend a lot of money, I don't want materialistic things. I want him to spend it on something we can enjoy together. We can travel and make memories.

My heart clenches painfully as I read the last question.

I rub my lips together and answer the final question.

I would wish for my Dad to still be alive.

My father passed away five years ago and afterwards, my mum changed drastically. First, she moved out of their house and sold the majority of her things. She dyed her hair red and got a number of things pierced. Then, she bought a yacht and decided to sail around the world.

I'm not even kidding.

I didn't mind that my mum had changed her looks, or that she had moved onto new things, it's the fact I feel like I lost her in the process.

I went from seeing her every week (because they lived in the same town as me), to seeing her once a year when she returns on her yacht.

She's living her best life, travelling everywhere and meeting so many people, and I'm stuck behind, missing my mum like a child.

We still talk regularly, whenever she docks and is able to get 4G or Wifi, but it's not the same.

I sigh and send the form back to the email address.

It's so weird that they wanted to know all of that information but hey, I could win a free holiday out of it.

I text Saffron, letting her know I've filled out the form. She replies shortly after.

Yeah, fingers crossed.

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