Finding Kim

Everyone knows me as Kim, it's just that everyone has a different perception of who Kim is...

Kim is working towards her master in microbiology. She is intelligent, attractive and looks forward to her very prospective future. But then someone walks back into her life, just as she is getting over her tortured high school past.

She dreamt of seeking revenge but she soon comes to realise that this girl - the girl who made her teenage years a living hell - has, perhaps, already paid the price...


7. A Text


I woke up early the next day because I wanted to go over how I would get through the school day. I knew, without a doubt, that the story of me apparently stealing the father of my best friend's unborn child would have circulated around half of the school already. I had considered taking the day off, but I didn't have anything to hide so I knew that I shouldn't pull such a guilty act.


The plan was to wait until second period to speak to Ally. I would then tell her that all the rumours were just that and that I would never do such a thing. Then, hopefully, she would believe me. My plan didn't quite work out like that; they didn't even wait until I had left the house before they started to torment me. As I pulled on my school uniform, my mobile buzzed. I ignored it but it buzzed again soon after. I opened the first message, which had been sent by a number that I didn't recognise. It was full of vulgar words and threats. The second message, although absent of swear words, hurt me the most. The sender was Ally and those three little words made my stomach churn: I hate you.


Form time had only just began and I already wanted to run back home. Everyone on my row of desks perched on the edge of other desks, making a show of whispering to their friends and then throwing pointed looks in my direction. The walls seemed to be closing in on me, the ticking of the clock slowed down, my head thrummed. I was paranoid, I felt... claustrophobic. I had never been claustrophobic; I had never suffered from any ridiculous phobia. Yes I had. I didn't like being alone, I didn't like not knowing what other people thought of me. I didn't like being kept in the dark. I flinched when the sound of the bell tore through my thoughts. I gathered my things together and half ran out of the room.


I wanted to escape from the judgemental eyes that were crowded into my form room, but that was nothing compared to what I had to endure throughout my last two years of high school. No one believed me, no one. Not even my so-called best friend. When she had been the victim of bullying, who stuck up for her? Me. Who was there for me when the rumours about me multiplied? Who sat with me at lunch time? Who partnered up with me in P.E lessons? Who cared that my father had died and my mother avoided me as if I was some kind of leper? No one.


No one cared about me so I didn't care about anyone. Including myself. I didn't give a shit that I was wasting away - the only control I had over me was what I ate. I was proud that no one caught on, until I collapsed during cross country. I was admitted into rehab where I learned that I wasn't the one who should be punished. I had to prove to everyone that I could make something of myself. I had to show them that I was better than those stupid, spineless bullies and that I wouldn't let them control my life.

But I couldn't.

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