She was funny and happy and always there for people, she loved being with people, even if it was doing something boring, she loved it, she could make people laugh and she loved it.
She was always up for a good time, she loved going out, although her 'going out' was drinking in the park, she loved it. she was 12, only just. She loved sitting in the park with her greasy hair, wearing tracky bottoms, an old hoody and a pair of trainers that were falling apart, but which were oh so comfy. She was probably too young to be drinking, but it was fun so why not?
She loved being with her friends, she loved making the fires, and drinking and trying to light her cigarette off the fire without burning her face. She would swing for ages, going higher and higher and higher, she could have stayed there for hours, just swinging.
She didn't feel bad about telling her mum she was staying at a friends cause everyone else did the same. None of them ever intended going home, they all got drunk and feel asleep in front of the fire on the park bench.
She never found this to be a trampy thing to do, because she was having so much fun, it just didn't matter.
It didn't matter how she looked, what she wore - she was 12 - no-one cared, they were more than content with just being all together. They always knew they were safe, because they all looked out for each other.
They would wake up in the mornings and be freezing but not able to go home because of the lie they had all told to their parents - but they all sat together with five jackets all wrapped around themselves.
Nothing could touch her, this was it, this was her life - she was half way through first year, she had made friends, life was good.
'Why don't you smile anymore?', 'What's wrong?', 'You don't seem happy'.
This is what she now heard everyday, why didn't she smile? She didn't know.
She wasn't good enough, she knew this.
Although what she wasn't good enough for, she never knew.
She was continuously told that she wasn't good enough.
She was told this by numerous people that were in a position of care -the people that should have been keeping her safe - Although a lot of them did - A few abused their position.
She starting shouting, she started swearing, she ran out.
She had been sitting in her Home Economics class, there were making something, she never did remember what. She had been told to roll up her sleeves.
But she couldn't do this, she couldn't.
So she got angry.
She ran to the toilets, she locked the door and rolled up her sleeves, she started picking, making them bleed, enjoying every second of it.
You see this once happy girl, well she had been taking razor blades to her wrists, slicing again and again, all the way up her arms, and slicing over old ones when she had ran out of room.
She can't remember how long exactly she did this for, but she knew it wasn't that long. She got caught, someone saw. She had to stop.
She felt something missing, she missed that feeling of slicing through skin. She had a hole and she needed to fill it.
They tried to find out what was wrong, her teacher - she tried. But she could never say, she didn't want people thinking she was mad, she didn't want them to find out how much they had made her hate herself.
She talked herself out of it, and nothing more was said.
She became quite, she didn't care about making people laugh anymore. She was thinking all the time. What could fill the hole she had?
She became disruptive, she got herself into trouble all the time.
She enjoyed it, she enjoyed being able to prove them right, that she was a waste of space. She didn't care about her education - She was useless at it anyway, she had been told.
She got herself thrown out of class of a daily basis, she didn't care - It was boring anyway.
She liked food - She always had. You would rarely see her not eating something.
She was never fat, but she was just a bit chubby. It was just 'puppy-fat' people told her. 'Everyone gets it -don't worry, you'll lose it when you start growing.
She had never eaten lunch in 1st year, but she was just never hungry.
She soon realised that no-one told her what to eat, she just ate when and what she wanted.
She controlled what she ate.
Yes, that was something she liked the sound of - Control.
She would eat the food her mum had left her when she was working. She ate it, she ate it quite quickly, then she ran to the bathroom.
She had seen a program about people making themselves sick. It was quite simple, just put your fingers in your throat, that's all.
She felt amazing, she had never felt anything like this - she couldn't explain it she just knew she loved it.
She tried not to eat unless someone was there. But she got hungry and she just wanted to chew something. She remembered the program; she chewed and chewed on so much food, and then she simply spat in out again. It was amazing, she felt so strong.
She went between lots of different things, chewing and spitting, purging, binging, restricting.
She made countless, 'plans', what she was going to eat, when she was going to eat it.
But her usual routine was eating nothing all day when in school, then coming home and eating as much as she could before her mum came home. Either chewing and spitting it, purging it or saving it. She restricted as much as she could, anything 'bad' she wanted to eat during the week she would put in a box and save, and then on Saturdays she would spend all day eating.
Her friends got used to it, it was just the way she was. But others noticed, a few of her teachers noticed, they would ask her about it, she brushed it off. She liked them noticing, but she didn't at the same time.
She later began eating very small amounts in school, she was watched, the lady that took the money for dinners saw her, she saw how little she ate, she never charged the girl full price because she, 'never ate even half of it'.
She threw up in school too, every now and then.
Her school life only got worse as the years went on - she loved her school, she could never leave to go elsewhere but she was aware that something wasn't right, as were most of the others.
Her temper was getting the better of her a lot more now, she was getting into trouble on a daily basis, she was getting detentions, being put in isolation, being suspended. What did it matter to her though? Her education wasn't going anywhere, she was in the lowest class and just didn't care. So she made trouble to entertain herself, it got her through the day. She didn't get scared anymore she screamed and shouted so no-one would notice that she was shaking with fear.
A few tried to help her, but she was too far gone, she would let herself cry to them the odd time, but she was soon unable to cry at all because she had pushed so many emotions into herself that she knew if she let that first tear fall, she would probably never stop.
They got her through the best that they could - But she wouldn't realise what they had done for her until after she had left.
She was closed into herself - She was in so much pain but she couldn't let anyone see, no-one could know. They might make her stop and she was addicted to it now - She needed it. She was in control and she couldn't let that be taken away from her.
She left high school with a few crappy exams.
She wasn't the person she was when she started, she was barely recongnisable.
She was in shreds, her head was a mess, she don't know what she was going to do next, she didn't know how to help herself. She convinced herself that she would never make anything of herself - How could she? What talents did she have? What was she good at?
She enrolled in college, more to keep her mother happy than anything, she didn't really no what course she was signing up for - she just went alone with it.
She wasn't good with people, she wasn't approachable in the slightest, she was cold and she looked like the kind of person you didn't want to know.
She felt ill on her first day, she didn't know what she was going to do, what if someone talked to her? She didn't know how to communicate with anyone.
She walked in and saw her best friend sitting in the same - She had never been so glad to see her.
They didn't know that they would meet each other there - They had both only signed up a day or two before and hadn't seen each other.
She was so glad she was there.
Her two years at college would be her realising that she wouldn't get treated the same way as she had in high school - No-one knew what she was like, the bad things she had done.
She tried to keep her anger hidden, she only let it escape a small number of times.
She wasn't clever at all, she wasn't stupid she just wasn't academic.
She found it very hard to keep up, which lead to her feeling worthless and she began to cut herself again.
Her college life has been a mixture of her cutting herself, starving herself, binging and purging.
Now as her college life comes to an end, she is lost.
She is not sure what to do, she is very lost and very scared.
She wants to have a career, she doesn't want to be held back by her bad grades. She wants to do something fun. She wonders why shouldn't your job be fun?
She has been watching so many videos on youtube, videos from various programs but all of these programs have Jennifer Saunders in common.
The girl admires her greatly, she would love to be able to write and act and make people laugh again.
She knows she can't do any of these things.
She knows she is boring, and will end up with a boring job that will get her nowhere in life.
She doesn't want to hate herself anymore, she feels sorry for her own body. She has abused it so very much.
She needs help but she so wants to melt the fat from her bones. She wants to see what what is under the fat.
She wants to have a body that resembles her head. She wants to destroy herself, because only then will someone maybe notice.
Someone may notice that she has been ripping herself to shreds for all these years, just to try and show everyone how much pain she feels.
She is in so much pain. She hates herself so much, and she hates this too.
She doesn't want to starve herself to death, she doesn't want to die.
She just wants to starve this part of herself to death so she can go back to being herself, and make something of herself.
She wants to be something amazing.
But she needs help, she needs to make herself so very ill so someone will help her.
She just wants to feel alive.
She wants to live.
But she must starve her horrible illness out of herself first.
She loves this other part of her, it tells her what to do.
She wants it to die but she worries about what would happen if it went.
The girl is a mess and doesn't know what to do.
I really wish this was 'just a girl'