Adopting Laura

A/N: This is a little story that I'm working on, seeing that the fanfics where someone gets adopted are quite popular, I thought I would give it a go on top of my other fanfic! Have fun reading! I'm going to make a super huge effort with this one, but I can't promise much!

Third Person

When depression takes over, it's like walls closing in on you, creeping closer and closer to you, and you don't have the strength to push them back. It's like being locked in a room and there is no escape. It's like dying, and your whole body is just a shell but nothing inside. This is what happens when your soul dies, but your body survives.

Laura's POV

Another day draws to a close. Another day like any other. Every day is the same: get up, get ready, bunk off school, get back to the hell hole and hurt myself. If I didn't feel pain, I couldn't bear it. I'm numb, and the pain is what is telling me that I'm real, not some sick persons figment of imagination. I smash plastic pencil sharpeners and use the metal piece as a blade. I'm only fourteen, too young for this shit, but I'm already beyond saving. Even my parents didn't care. But I can't think about them. Not anymore. I'm blocking them from my mind as best as I can. I've been here since I was 8. My parents shattered my ability to trust, and the orphanage did nothing to help me. Thinking back, they probably made me worse. Made me the person I am today. Strange Laura. Weird Laura. Introvert Laura. Emo Laura.

I can hear a knock on my bedroom door. I sigh and and get off my bed to open the door.

"What?" I say rudely to whoever was at the door. That 'whoever' is Julie, the cow that runs this prison.

"Dinner. Come and eat." She says. I shake my head.

"Not hungry." I begin to push close the door, but her foot is wedged between the door and the frame.

"You haven't eaten for 3 days. If you get ill we ain't paying for no doctor to sort you out. If you aren't down in 10 minutes, Laura, I will drag you down by your hair." She glares at me and walks away in her ridiculously tarty heels. I slam the door shut and let out a frustrated groan. I walk over to the cracked mirror. I lift up my top. I can see my ribs, but my stomach is still to big. I turn to the side. Yup. I look pregnant! I need to lose more weight. I won't be eating tonight. This happens a lot. Fast for 4 days and then have a meal or two. Then fast again. I'll never be as thin as I want to be. But I will get as close as I can.

I shove my dresser up against the door and slid my back down it. Ugh. Life.