Marcel was the class nerd, who everyone decided to pick on and make fun of. It was the last day of 11th grade when he decided to make a change in the way he looked, and acted. Marcel- or should I say Harry came back as a new person in the 12th grade.

For her 16th birthday, Lucy Martin received a "present" from her childhood bestfriend, Louis Tomlinson; she got to be a backup dancer for One Direction. Things started heating up with her and Harry, but after the tour, he broke things off. Shortly after the breakup, Lucy discovered she was pregnant. With Harry Styles' baby, she decided to keep it a secret, only telling Louis the truth. Now, 3 years later, Isobele stumbles into her father, totally by accident. Should Lucy let the curly haired boy into his daughter's life, or shut him out like he did to her, all those years ago?

You know that feeling when you feel like you actually can go a day without crying and hurting yourself? Well that's exactly when everything goes wrong again. It's like I'm afraid to be happy, because when I am, Something bad will happen. I know what it's like to be bullied, cry yourself to sleep every night, to have parents that doesn't care and not to mention a sister that started it all. I used to tell myself. ' Never ever trust anyone ' and I guess I believed it for a while. That was until I moved in with Ashley. She changed me, In a good way. She made me believe that maybe, maybe I can trust some people. But I am scared. Scared to get hurt, so hurt that i will never be able to fix again.

One harmless song turned into something so much more. [This book deals with the reality of depression, it needs to be brought to our attention. The outcome once this this is finished is to show you the true beauty you withhold. Some parts may be graphic as you get farther into the book, just a warning. Stay strong, I just want to help you with what you may be experiencing.]

Three things happened simultaneously: the beer bottle dropped from his hand and shattered on the floor, my father let out a deep, throaty chuckle, and his hand had struck me across the face. I put my hand on the spot he had just hit and felt the heat and sting of the impact. I looked down at the broken beer bottle, still holding my hand on my cheek, and I felt a heavy boot kick into my waist. I fought back tears and stayed silent. After a few moments, I heard the footsteps retreating and the sound of a door slamming shut. When I was sure he was gone, I looked away from the broken bottle, and tears welled up in my eyes. I never showed my weaknesses to my father, happiness was the last thing I wanted to give him. After a few minutes, I pulled myself off the floor and slowly approached my dresser, cautiously opening the top drawer and moving some socks out of the way. I pulled out a long blade, and with trembling hands, slid it across my wrist, adding to the collection of scars. I began to quietly sing a familiar tune that seemed to comfort me in times like this: “Heart beats harder, time escapes me, trembling hands touch skin, it makes it harder, and the tears stream down my face. If we could only have this life for one more day, if we could only turn back time…” My voice trailed off and I drifted to sleep.

“I love you, Jess. Sure things might not be perfect right now, but they will be. One day you’ll accept everything that’s happened. And one day, you’ll be freed.”