Nation

Chapter1- They just don't get it

Hi, I'm Kassy Lynn Tyla. I'm about 5ft 8 and I weigh about 8 stone 9. I'm about to turn 16 years old, and life isn't easy. I live in the city of Manchester, and attend a prestigious academy where my parents signed me up, against my will, for an accountancy course. I hate numbers with a burning passion, and would far rather write.

I have brown, almost black, hair reaching nearly to my waist. Naturally, it's wavy and full of volume, but people made fun of me for it and said it looked like I never brushed it. I now straighten it everyday to tame it.

I have a very pale, Snow-White-like complexion with a band of freckles sprinkled on my nose. People thought that they were spots, and said I looked like a greasy freak. So I cover them up with foundation now.

My eyes are very bright, and very green. They have bright blue flecks in that shimmer in the light, and I love them. They're one of my only assets, but everyone accused me of faking it, and thought they were contact lenses. So now, I wear brown coloured contacts to tone them down. Apparently liking something about yourself is illegal round here.

My teeth used to have a gap in, and I thought it was cute. It gave me a mother-like, happy look. That was what I thought before people told me that I looked like a donkey. So I got invisible braces to close it.

I used to have brilliant curves that looked great in a dress, and a lovely waist to match. One night, there was a party I was invited to. I wore a burgundy dress that was lace at the top, and was elasticated at the waist. It had a flowy skirt that hung wonderfully on my hips. The lads all thought I looked great, but the girls said I was fat and my hips were huge. They made me go home and get dressed. I went on a diet, and now I look okay. I think it's better to be smaller, then maybe people will notice me less.

I have my firsts, seconds, top ear, tragus, and belly button pierced. I was pressured into it, because all the girls were getting theirs done and said I was a wimp if I didn't get it done. I, for one, thought that this was ridiculous. But I got it done nonetheless.

Believe it or not, I do have a boyfriend. His name is Cameron, and I love him. What I don't love, is the fact that he drinks. He's 17 years old, and he drinks every night. He gets wasted, calls me to come over, beats me senseless, and then cries. He wakes up with a killer headache, and drinks more to take the pain away. It's an unhealthy cycle, but nonetheless he does it. Whenever he is sober, and this is extremely rare, I try and break up with him. Then he cries, and says he loves me and he won't drink again. It's always a lie. But, I'm always stupid enough to believe it. Once, when I tried to break up with him, he cried but I didn't show sympathy. That was what really infuriated him. So, despite him being sober, he went mental and started beating me. I tried to run away, but that resultes in him slashing me with a knife. Of course, I passes out from blood loss. And of course, he took me to the hospital with the sob story that he found me in an alleyway. And of course, they believed it. He said that if I told anyone, or tried to get away from him again, he'd kill me.

And so that was the end of that.

My parents think I'm an ungrateful tart. They walk into my room and ask why I'm crying at night. I never want to tell them the whole story, so I just say: 'life.' They think I take my life for granted, saying I have a wonderful boyfriend and lovely friends that will take care of me. They couldn't be more wrong if they tried.

The boys at school are lovely to me, and they always stick up for me when the girls get a bit mean. Of course, the girls have my neck about it later, but it's nice to know they care. The boys are far nicer to me than the girls, and I much prefer hanging around with them. They're less hassle, and there's no girl drama. I go out with them at the weekends, on the off chance that the girls forget about me. I appreciate the lads, I really do.

You might wonder why I stay with these people, and it's because I'm terrified.

Of being disliked.

Of being alone.

Of being killed.

Of being an outcast.