These wings were meant to fly

Sarah's life is far from being perfect; her boyfriend is being abusive and it's taking over her life. Her grades are dropping and all her friends have left her at school. As well as that the most popular girl is bullying her. Nothing is right and no one will listen. Sarah is on the verge of suicide until she listens to a song that changes her life. This is based on the song Wings by Little Mix.


2. Tears

A couple of weeks ago

Tears ran down my face as I sobbed into my pillow. Danny had hit me again...this time for not telling him where I was on Saturday. I hated my life it was so unfair, nothing was ever good. I was hated at home, at school, wherever I went. This all started a year ago when Danny started to hit me. At first I thought it wasn't my fault, I was just unlucky, but I now I know the truth... I have grown wiser and I know it's all my fault it has to be. If it wasn't mum wouldn't hate me, Danny wouldn't despise my presence and the populars' wouldn't tease me when ever they saw me. If it wasn't my fault I would confident with loads of friends and happy, but I'm not so it must be my fault.

I look up from my pillow and see the peeling white paint on my wall next to me. I just stare at it for a minute, tears don't run down my face. The paint reminds me of my myself. Once it was shiny and new full of promise, now it’s old and dirty and peeling around the edges with cracks everywhere. It was just like me I once was a happy bubbly person who was never sad now I am older, uglier and tearing apart. I am quieter in lesson, I have no friends I never talk unless I am asked a question, no longer am I bubbly.

I was the paint and the populars’ were the wall. I was used as a protection I was the person who got dirty an old while the “wall” stayed fresh and clean.  That was how it worked and it would always stay like that. I stare at my hand where the cutting were, they were deep and thin and long. I don’t like the blade on my skin it hurt, but I deserved it. It help me remember that I deserved pain, I always will and always have.

I get up and make my way to the bathroom and I take look at myself in the mirror. I was red and blotchy with mascara dripping down my face and my hair was a mess it looked like a birds nest. I could see nothing, but my fat ugly face and I burst into even more tears. I grab my blade and drag it across my skin letting the blade sink in really slicing through my skin. Blood poured out of my wrist, but I just get a piece of tissue and press it onto the cut.

Welcome to my daily torment.

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