Bin Bag Girl

What would you do if you were abandonded at birth? Would you shrivel up and die? I didn't, I was strong. I lived my first two days in the world in a trash can.

What would you do if on your first day at Secondary School, people called you 'bin bag orphan'. Would you cry? Would you leave? I can't.There's no where else to go, no-one to turn to. So what can I do?

I was in a trash can for two days at a day old and lived, so why couldn't I deal with Secondary School at the age of twelve for the next two weeks, before I was murdered.


3. The day after the hospital

I was released from hospital that very day, panic attack, that's all. I'd had many before but normally not for these reasons so no-one really bothered to ask if I was ok or why I had the panic attack. So I went back to school the next day:

I decided to walk, I was allowed, it was only a five minute walk. I arrived at about 8.15 and I was surprised at the amount of people in the locker room, including Chelsea.

"Alright? What happened yesterday?"She asked. I decided to be blunt and tell her the truth.

"Panic attack, happens all the time." I replied. Her eyes looked at me quizically.

"Why?" She asked, looking genuinely interested.

"Dunno, sommit to do with my mum probably." I answered. She turned to the rest of the locker rooom crowd, put her fingers in her mouth and whistled.

"Hey everyone, bin bag girly is missing her mummy wummy!" She yelled, everyone laughed. Oh no! I felt my eyes prickling. I was NOT going to cry!

"HAHA! Little bin bag girly has no mummy to miss aswell!" I heard from the crowd.

"BIN BAG GIRL!" They began chanting. "BIN BAG GIRL!" Repeatedly. I was going to cry, I made a B-line to the form room. I quickly pulled out a tissue and wiped away the escaping tears.

You would have thought she would want to leave me alone after that public humiliation. But no. She sat behind me and kicked my back with her pointy heels through the rectangular cut out in the plastic chair. I turned around.

"What?! Bin bag girl." She sneered.

"Nothing." And I turned away.

I had never felt so defeated, even when I took what felt like was my last breathe in that trash can.

Later, in maths, she didn't actually bully me but she had a fight with a boy over a text book, she kicked him in the shin and gave him a wack round the face before our teacher, poor Miss Aston. But she managed her and then sent her outside and she wondered off and about 10 minutes later we saw her walk past the classroom window, fully changed, cigarette in hand walking down the road towards town. Apparently she'd done this many times before.

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