Sorry

Helen cannot escape Taylor and her endless taunts.
Taylor cannot escape herself and the monster she has become.

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3. 3:Helen-Why me?

I stared after Taylor, tears in my eyes threatening to overflow. She turned back once and looked at me. For the first time I saw behind that hard exterior; the shell she had built to protect herself, to a soft inside, to a girl who would never do this to me. But she turned back and laughed with Amy about my bag. I wiped my eyes angrily, I tried never to cry, it told them that they'd won.

I turned to see my books in a pool of sticky juice. My art project! I scrabbled around, not caring about my hands or my hair wiping in the sticky juice. I found the stiff sheet of card, pulled it out and held it up in the air. My pictures that I'd spent hours on, every single one, had run all over the pristine white paper, the paper that I had kept a piece of paper under my hand, just so that it didn't get marks on it. The photos that I'd spent hours looking for, then used up half of our printer cartridge on, just to print them out. The oil pastels that I'd spent all of my birthday money on, all wasted on the ruined pictures.

I leant back against my locker and sobbed. I didn't care who saw me, maybe then they'd see what a bitch Taylor was.  Not that anyone ever did, they just laughed with her and joined in. I cried until it felt like there wasn't a drop of water left in my body, and my throat felt like sandpaper. When I finally thought I was done, I pulled out some tissues, angrily wiping my face. I picked up my art project and all of my books and dropped them in the bin. They were no use now.

I picked up my bag and headed to the toilets to change into the spare shirt I always kept in my locker, I had soaked my current one with juice and tears. I also had some foundation and a bit of eye-shadow I could use to cover my red eyes and blotchy face. I went into a cubicle and squeezed my bag over the toilet to get the worst of the juice out. Suddenly I heard the toilet door opening, I heard voices. Those voices.

"Oh my god, that was brilliant Taylor!"

"Yeah! I never would have thought of something like that"

It was them all right. I sat down on the toilet lid, hardly daring to breathe, and hoped they'd go away without finding me.

"Mm hm," Taylor replied. She sounded sad, that was strange. She was normally gleeful after she'd made my life a misery.

"I don't know why she doesn't just move schools, no-one likes her anyway." That was true. I used to have friends, but as I became a social outcast because of Taylor, they all drifted away, too scared to talk to me any more.

"I know right!"

Taylor spoke again. "Guys, maybe we should-" My bag slipped down from the peg it was hanging on and banged down on to the floor, someone grabbed it from the other side of the door and picked it up. In a delighted voice someone said "Guys, look! I wonder who decided to eavesdrop today?" That must have been Amy. Only she could sound that happy at the prospect or torturing someone else.

The door was kicked open and they found me, sitting there looking absolutely petrified. "It's our little friend!" Taylor said, in that cutting, mocking voice she reserved specially for me, "We all know what happens to eavesdroppers!"

Before I had time to move, one of them grabbed my keys out of my pocket, opened the toilet and flushed them down. What was my mum going to say? She got back at 7 and my dad at 9, how would I get in the house? I couldn't stay outside till then, especially not with my little brother!

They thrust my bag at me, then walked out laughing, Taylor loudest of all. I just sat there, stunned. The same question popped in my head, the one I asked myself everyday.

Why me?

I remembered the first day Taylor made my life a living hell.

I had been leaning against the lockers, talking to one of my old friends, when someone had shoved me out of the way. I'd hit the floor hard and scrambled to get back up, wondering what had happened. Was there another fight? They often got big and people ended up getting crashed into. But instead I had seen Taylor standing where I had been, opening her locker, she turned and said coolly "Are you blind? Keep away from my locker. I might catch nerd." With that she grabbed some books and marched off with her friends, giggling. 

I'd had friends then, who had told me she was probably having a bad day, she was normally so nice. But it slowly got worse and worse, and as it did they slowly abandoned me, telling me they didn't want to be friends any more. Most of them said it was because we were too different,  that we'd grown apart, but I knew it was because if they were friends with me, they were in danger from Taylor.

Why me? I wasn't that much of a nerd, I wasn't fat or ugly, not an easy target. Not exactly a hard one, but not your number one choice.

Why me?

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