How to Save Your Life

Natasha is suffering. She is struggling to believe that her life is worth anything more than the bruises upon her face and is trying to juggle herself between her painful school life and her lonely home life.

Whilst the bullies think that they are clever for what they do, they fail to empathise with the hurting Natasha. And, considering they are knowledgable towards her situation, they persist to break down her life and soul.

Can she defeat the two groups that both appear to want her to fail; can she reach her dreams through the power of love and loss; and can she break the strong hold that is constantly held around her?


4. Back to the Present


Thoughts and emotions were running wild in the derelict room and they could’ve been shared with everyone if the door was released and let down for just a second. Natasha had spent the whole reflection of the bullying sat on the carpeted area of her bedroom, whilst looking up to the single, framed photograph that was placed on the wall. There was a thick blotch of water in the corner of her eye that was blurring her vision of the image. So, she wiped away the woeful tear, in order to focus her sight, and stood up to bring down the photograph of her mother.

Her tentative extension of her arm, and the gentle grasp for the picture represented the fragile sentiments behind it. As she took her time in taking the photograph off the wall, she noticed the deep, thick black marks behind. They outlined the dusty frame and showed the dampness that had obviously embedded itself and built up over a long period of time. The perfectly shaped rectangle it formed not only indicated the length of time it had been placed upon the wall, but also the reluctance to take it down. It may have been out of fear of damage that Natasha prevented the picture being removed from its designated spot, but really, she didn't want anyone else but her mother to watch over her whilst she rested.

Her cherished photograph was of the best, and last pleasing memory of her and her mother. It was before they moved away and set the path for sadness, when Natasha believed that nothing would bother her in life. However, she wasn’t as care-free anymore. The small, green and well-maintained park that acted as background to the picture failed to keep its bright, jolly colours. Only in the young girl’s memories and dreams did this fill her with joy. Picnic food lay to rest on the blue checked blanket; spread in front of a young teenager and her mother sharing the largest vanilla ice-cream anyone had ever lay eyes upon. Both figures were the perfect beauty- especially sat together in such a pleasing environment. It was the sort of thing you saw in movies; if it hadn’t been caught on camera then Natasha would’ve probably mistaken that feeling.

By this time, the tears were rolling down her cheek at an uncontrollable rate so that all she could do was hold the photo close to her heart. It wouldn’t stop, the misery. Bottled up inside her for so long; it was obviously going to burst soon. So Natasha continued her plan. She quickly scrawled words that kept creeping in her head and left the tear-stained note, and photograph on her neatly prepared mattress. And, before leaving the door, she kissed the tips of her fingers and touched the top right corner of the picture- where her beautiful mother was smiling up with an expression that could’ve killed all hatred. She exited the bedroom and crept down the stairs so that her father couldn't demand any chores for her to complete; a noted success as she held out her hand for the door. A quiet turn of the lock and a faint hope that the door was not going to squeak open or slam shut.

As soon as Natasha was out the front door, she ran all the way along the roads and streets- which had all been the setting for at least one violent attack on her. A shortcut, in the form of a derelict, wooded area that she knew of was drawing in closer, and then it wouldn’t be long before her worries were ceased. Eventually, she completed her run through the damp, darkness beneath the trees; a more tentative approach through fear of loose roots and unexpected litter. Her mind was racing and the tears were still streaming down her face as a familiar object swung from her neck in time with her strides. However, when she got to the edge of the woods, a sudden surge of peace swept over her breathless soul; a strange feeling for such a dangerous place.

The young girl lifted her arm and delicately took the locket from around her neck. She squeezed the locket until her hand hurt and the heart-shaped jewellery formed a perfectly sculptured mark on her flatteringly smooth skin. Then she took five more sprinting strides and headed for the centre of the motorway; the exact same spot that her mother had been found on the horrific day that had never cheered back up. This was Natasha’s closure- on life and on hatred.


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