Who Will Love Me Now? (Danisnotonfire & amazingphil & crabstickz & kickthepj)

Chapter 1 - 8 Years Changed My Life. But How?

8 Years today. Everything changed. The day I ran from my friends. All the way from my family. I had to get away. I got abused at home, as for my friends? I had none they were fake. The only ones that loved me lived hours away or were on the Internet. I loved them all so much, I told them nearly everyday how much they meant to me, how much they saved my life. To me? It was never enough. They had to see how much they meant to me. How to do this? I had no idea. One of the most important things in my life, was my phone. I was never off it, and when I didn't have it with me? I felt lost. All they kept telling me to do, was follow my dreams. So that's exactly what I did. Today, 8 years ago? My life changed because of that advice. In the end, it was for the better. What exactly happened 8 years ago then?

-8 years and a few weeks before-

Back to school. Monday, this was the day I dreaded most. Going back to school. Actually, that's wrong, I loved learning, very much. It was my strength, personally? I thought it was the only thing I was good at. As for Dad? He always thought I was a failure at everything I do. I just gave up doing things. Your probably wondering what about my mum? She works all the time abroad. That's what Dad says anyway. I haven't seen her since I was about 4. Is she really that busy to even call? I don't know, either way I wasn't going to argue. I'd learnt that at an early age. I'm wrong Dad's right. I didn't dare go against him, it wasn't worth the hurt anymore.

I used to be so strong, thinking nothing was impossible, and all dreams were reachable. In the end, my dad wasn't the only one who crushed it. Since I went to school, I've been bullied for being different. The way I looked, dressed, music I listened to. In simple terms? Anything I liked was wrong, anything I did was wrong. The only time I could be right, was school. I was bullied. No one cared, people started to, and when it got hard? People left. When it got hardest, I was alone. Usually the people I let get close were exactly the people that hurt me the most, they used my trust against me. Why would someone do that?

I'm now 12, going on 13. Soon I'm going up to high school. All I hope was for things to change. Then again this was me? The little girl in the dark, who no one would ever care about. Or was I wrong? Would things ever change? Would someone care and stay? As all these thoughts ticked through my head,I glanced at the clock. 5:00am. Time to get up. Lots of people think it's early. For me? This was late. Picked up phone and iPod. Some people wonder why I have these but yet look like a tramp in their eyes. I have them because I worked for them, I got a job and bought them.

Thankfully my Dad never knew about them, and he never would either. I know he would just smash them like a glass ball, being dropped on the floor and shattering into little diamonds. He doesn't know much about my life. Not about my grades, school, my job. Anything. I would rather have it that way. Dad always says Mum could cope and how independent she was. Maybe I was like my mum? I hope I was like her. I never ever said that in front of my Dad though, he'd go ballistic. You don't mention Mum or her name. Not unless you wanted to be taught a lesson.

I slowly stumbled out of bed, looked around at my blank room, most teenage girls would have a beautiful room with hundreds of posters! As for me? My room was different, I lived in the attic, out of the way. This was just so I was out of the way of my father. My room, was drafty, wooden, boards and one end was my bed and desk , the other was full of boxes, old "junk" my dad would call it. I wasn't supposed to touch it. Truthfully I hadn't but I wanted to touch one box out of them all the most. It was labeled "Our Memories". I knew what that box meant to our family. Well when I say family? I mean the people who gave birth to me. When ever Dad drinks he drinks so much that he either passes out, throws up or basically talks about anything and everything.

One night, I decided if it would work talking to him, it did. I only got on question "What are the boxes up stairs?" quietly I asked in case he was half awake, surprisingly he replied. "Mine and your Mum's memories", even though he spluttered and mumbled it, I understood. Thats how I found out what were in those boxes. I'd pulled some clothes on and climbed down from my room to go get everything done before he wakes up.

P.E was first on a Monday morning, I don't really want more cuts or bruises I have enough, not just from my Dad. Eventually I had clambered through the mess of the lounge into the kitchen. How could one man make so much mess in one night and not even move off the chair? I had no idea. All I knew was it was going to be a long morning.

I decided I would start in the lounge, at least that would be tidy so he could make himself at home when he woke up. I looked up at the cieling, thinking to myself. Why does the messy pig get to stay in bed, but I have to get up really early and clean up all his stupid mess. This wasn't fair on me. I had exams, like he would ever care.

2 hours later

Sighing I stared at the clock wishing all this was done for me. 7:00am. Another 30 minutes tidying, shower ready and leave at 8:00am. I had to be at school early, this was when I could talk to the teachers about work without getting called teachers pet. The teachers new about it, there was just too many girls to stop. It would never work. If I wanted to make my friends (my real friends who cared but lived too long away) proud? I would need good grades. Thats exactly where I was aiming.

My favourite teacher would be my art teacher. Miss Gale. That was her name, she was so pretty. People thought we were sisters on the first day, that didn't help...then again, nothing would. Everything just seemed to get worse. Would things ever work out?