This is a story of a 15 year old girl. She is surrounded by a group of bullies in friends clothing. Her "Friends" bully her as she is different. She is threatened that if she moves away, she will be killed. Will she break free of the monsters?


5. Confessed

She asked so casually it sounded like she was saying: "So, What are you having for tea tonight?" Amazingly, to my horror, I answered almost instantly, unable to keep my own secret.

"I got some of these scars recently, like last week. The rest I've collected over that past 12 years." I stopped picking up cotton balls and sat there, staring into space, am I really going to discuss through something so personal that I haven't told to anyone else with a school nurse I just met? I hoped that she would keep to herself and not ask me anymore questions, but I was in no such luck.

"I heard that it was Scarlet Hanshall." It wasn't much of a question, but I knew she wanted me to talk more about the people that punished me. She smiled once again, giving me a reassured sign that I could trust her.

"It wasn't just Scarlet, but she told the others what to do." I kept my voice low and I talked in short sentences, not wanting to give too much away. She casually walked to the medical cupboards to put away the cotton balls and ointment.

"And these other people, were they being bullied too?" Bullied. I wasn't being bullied. Bullies make you feel isolated, if anything, Scarlet made me feel surrounded. But was that just another form of bullying? My head started to spin; was I being bullied? This was looking from a whole different perspective. I've always seen it as punishment for being different, not bullying. But is being punished the same as being bullied? They both have the same motives: treating people differently because they were different. I could tell Mrs Clintoff was waiting for my reply, but I was tripping over the question. I didn't think I was being bullied, all the girls seemed to do what Scarlet said just like me. Perhaps the others were bullied. But none of the other girls had scars or were treated like me. Scarlet treated them like equals but they all knew that she was in charge. Scarlet treated me different because I was different.

I shook my head to answer Mrs Clintoff's question, again, unable to speak, lost in my thoughts as I was seeing things in a new light. Mrs Clintoff took my hand and helped me to my feet, guiding me to a padded chair to sit in.

"How did this all begin? When you walk around school you girls look like friends." And that was it, I was about to explain to her my life story.

"When I was 4, I met Scarlet. She said we could be friends and that was all I ever wanted..." 

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