I knew it was meant to be

*February 14th 2014*

I looked over at my husband Sawyer, he looked back. "What's up babe?" he said "Remember when we first met?" I said "Yeah, you were sat in the freezing cold rain. And I remember your story...."

*flashback of 2011, 3rd January*

I was sat in sorrow in the bitter cold weather of England. Everyone hates me. But why. Why. I've just been beat to the ground, have a nose bleed and a dislocated wrist. I just want to kill myself. Right now. I looked down at my other wrist, and counted my cuts. 100. I hate my life. My blade was right next to me. I tried to pick it up, but my wrist was to painful. I lay down and tried to sleep. It was 11pm. I couldn't stop thinking of all the bullies. I hate them so much, I ended up crying myself to sleep.

The next day, it's Friday, thank goodness gracianias for that. (Little Joey Graceffa for ya there ;D) I got ready for school, throwing my pjs on the floor, I wasn't in the mood. My mum and my dad were both at work. I was alone. I set off eventually, and I played some music *Wake Me Up by Avicii* I walked as I listened but then the "gang" came by. Shit. "Hew, bitch tits! Ower here now!" (Sorry, I'm trying to write Geordie lines here 😂) I ignored them and kept walking, but to my suprise, I was tripped up. Then beat. They eventually left me cold on the ground. I was sick to death of this, it's been happening for 4 years. But, I just don't want to kill myself. Well, I do, but I'm to scared. I was serious now though. I ran home. I grabbed all the money I had, and all my parents. I had £3000. I rang a taxi, climbed in and got drove to the airport. I'm running away. No matter what. I walked up to the desk. "Hello, before anything, how old are you?" the lady asked me "20" I replied "where would like to book your flight to?" the lady asked. I didn't think where I wanted to go. America? Sweden? Italy? I know. "LA in the USA please" I said. I might be able to meet all my faveourite Youtubers. I'll need to go to Whole Food if I want to meet Joey Graceffa. "your flight leaves in 15 minutes, you'll have just enough time to get there" the lady said "thanks" and I ran to the plane.

The flight was boring, but worth it. I was away from the idiots. And ready to start a fresh, new life. I got out the plane, in sunny, hot LA. I called a taxi and I got dropped off at the home store. I need a house. I looked to see how much money I had left. Fuck. I didn't have dollars. I had pounds. I had £200 left anyway. I don't have a house. I don't have food. I don't have anything. My life is worse here.