The New Me// L.H

{3}

{A}

  It's been a month since I moved to Australia. A month since I started this new school. And a month of pure hell because of the tall blonde boy who I've come to learn his name. Luke Hemmings.

  I've came into habit of holding my tongue. It only makes the abuse from him worse. He physically and emotionally tortures me at school. His friends sometimes join in, but only call me names. When Luke does get physical, it makes me want to just die. He rarely does it, but it's always the worse since he's building up all of this anger towards me. I don't understand why he is doing this to me.

  It's Sunday and I'm not looking forward to school tomorrow. Weekends have become my favorite, not only because there's no school, but because I only have two days to get away from this abuse.

  As I sit on my bed, thinking about everything, I come to do something that I never thought I would ever do. I stand from my spot and walk out of my room. There's silence, so I assume my parents are gone. I go back into my room and lock the door. My eyes catch my reflection in my mirror and a tear slides down my cheek as I think of all the horrible names they've called me. I let out deep breath and my fist comes in contact with my mirror. Shards of glass fly and I let out a loud scream of pain as the glass cuts up and down my arm.

  The cuts are shallow and a little deep, but I suddenly feel a satisfaction from the pain. A sick smile comes to my face as I drop to the floor and cry.

  I sit on the floor and continue to cry for almost half an hour. My tears finally stop and I slowly begin to pick the pieces of glass up. I wrap the glass up and throw it away. I go to my restroom and grab the first aid kit out of cabinet.

  I grab a damp rag and wipe the blood from my arm. I take some alcohol and gently dab it on my skin.

"Fuck" I hiss in pain.

  My hand reaches for the gauze and place it on my cuts. I place large bandaids over the gauze and put the kit away.

  I go back into my room and lay on my bed. My arm is still in pain. My hand feels my notebook under my pillow and I pull it out. I flip to a blank page and start to write the first lyrics that come to my mind.

" I don't need to live by your rules,
(you don't control me)
Until you've walked a mile in my shoes,
(you don't know me)
And I know, I know, I know you don't like it,
You don't, you don't, you don't know where I've been..."

  As the lyrics pour out of me, I realize that this is about all of the terrible people at my school. The ones who think they know me, just because I'm an America. They haven't walked in my shoes and don't understand what Luke and his friends do to me for no reason.

  My feet swing over my bed and I walk towards my closet. I hate this abuse and I need something to change. Maybe if I act like the girls here something can change. I open up my closet and look at the old bags of clothes that my mother bought me a month ago.

  I grab the bags and dump the clothes out. Not really my style, but it's a change. If a change is going to happen I have to change myself. I guess even after I told myself I wouldn't change, I have to. The abuse has to stop. A new me will change this.

___

  There's no going back at this point. I stand in front of the doors that enter my school. Yesterday I dyed my hair a light brown color. I practiced walking in heels my mother got me all night.