Broken.

Hurt. Pain. And a whole lot of love.

Zoe comes back...alone and confused. But she's not the same 'queen bee' as she used to pretend to be. For her, High Schools now a long road to the past...not the future.
But who can change her mind...her fighting unforgiveable parents? Or the boy thats been waiting for her to smile all this time...

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3. Finding

Katie came bounding over, a big brilliant smile on her face. I watched as she smoothed her perfect blonde strands of hair, my bland forgotten lips curving down.
Didn't she know?
Katie grinned, and I gripped my rucksack tighter, staring her down, challenging her to speak.
"Honey, whats wrong?" She soothed, reaching out to stroke my arm, pulling back dismissively when I stiffened.
"Don't touch me" I muttered through gritted teeth, enjoying when a glimpse of regret shot across her face.
"If this is about your brother, I totally know what your going through, but I don't know how to show you-". The anger burst rapidly, and started burning the insides of my mouth, blood boiling... I could almost see the sparks forming in my eyes, nerves tensing as my best friend recoiled in front of me.
"No, its fine Katie. I'll just go back to your house and set your sisters bedroom alight, then you'll understand how it feels" I spat at her, the venom flying off my tongue, hitting her with so much force, tears sprang to her to perfectly made up eyes.
Make-up? My skin was clear and rid of it. I wasn't the girl I pretended to be anymore. I was something much more.
"Just, let me be, okay?" I whispered and Katie nodded furiously. Guilt flooded through me as her nail reached out to stroke my hand. The touch was like fire, burning away the insipid skin that I longed to cut away at.
"Tell me, when you want to talk okay, I'm here for you".
Ha. Sure you are, girl who went after my ex boyfriend, right after he dumped me because of a rumor that I had dentures. Bitch.
The pain relapsed again, as I made my way to class, shivering contently when the aching hole opened up again, clawing away at nothing. I bit back hot oven tears as I stared at the poem on the wall. I shifted in my seat, as I read it gingerly, a choke escaping from my mouth. The tears had y run yet, but they trickled when I read his name at the bottom.
Love, By Jacob Bramley.
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