This is not a One Direction fanfiction.

My life is a story. Every day I write a new chapter. None of it is real. None of it is true. None of it is me.
Fourteen year old Lillie pretends to be just like all the other girls at school. She wears mascara. She swoons over boybands. She doodles all over her books in pink pen.
But in reality, she's nothing like all the other girls at school.
Because Lillie has a secret. A deep, dark secret that's been lurking just under the surface the whole of her life, just threatening to make a reappearence.
And when it does, Lillie will need to learn one lesson fast- some things are more important than One Direction.
Disclaimer- This has nothing whatsoever to do with One Direction. I merely used them to signify modern society in general.


1. In which Channing Tatum told her she was pretty.

I wander the corridors, the ghost of my footsteps echoing around the empty rooms. Or at least, they seem empty. I pray that's the truth. If anyone was to find me now, they'd know immediately what nobody should ever know about me.
I am fourteen years old. My name is Lillie Elizabeth Smith. Or rather, it isn't. But it isn't. And is.
My real name's Aoife. Just Aoife. But it would never do to tell anyone that.
See, I was once part of a group of 'free spirits'- those who don't care for modern society and ways and even simple new things like permanent housing or electricity. I grew up in a teepee, eating harvested plants and things that were always slightly raw or quite overcooked or just a bit off, depending on who had thrown them out. 
There are even poor kids and rich kids when you live in a tent. 
'LILLIE!' someone yells. I immediately stop chanting and spin around slowly on the balls of my feet. Luckily, I see my best friend Erin racing down the corridor. The way her curly red hair's flying right now she looks perfectly ordinary. It's only when it's settled that you'll see her hearing aid.
Relieved, I hug Erin 'Can you keep a secret?' I ask gently. 'Pardon Lillie? I think the hearing aid's gone a bit funny, it keeps making all these weird noises...'
I signed, relieved. Then I shook myself. You can't be happy that your best friend had a birth defect. I'm sorry, but that's just wrong.
I follow Erin along the corridors, her chattering loudly- 'What did you do during the summer? I'll bet you went on hoiday somewhere posh. Seeing as I can't hear you, I'll just invent how your holiday went. You went on holiday, somewhere. Florida! Na, maybe you went on a road trip all the way round America. You rode a helicopter over the grand canyon. You went to see a show on Broadway. And then when you were flying back Channing Tatum was on the same plane as you and he told you you were pretty and he wanted you to be in his next movie...'
Erin couldn't have been more wrong.
My summer holiday had been spent hanging around outside Mcdonalds, picking over leftovers, diving into bins outside bakeries in the hope of coming across some slightly out of date food and harvesting wood sorrel in the park.
Well, if growing up in the Scottish mountains teaches you anything, it's how to sate hunger.
Anyway, I was glad to be back.

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