And I Hope It Stays Like That

Imogen-Hope is a 15 year old girl who is suicidal and is extremely close to killing herself. But when the popular boy at her school starts showing interest in her she begins to see light at the end of an extremely dark tunnel. But can Alex change her life forever, or is it already to late.


5. Chapter 4


It’s Monday and to be honest I am unlike everyone else in this world. I love Mondays. I love walking in through the school doors every day, and I hate going home at night. I hate Fridays and I especially hate last day of term.  And it is all because I don’t want to stay in the same house as my parents.  But I don’t let anyone know that.

I walk in through the doors and have a crowd of people around me in an instant. I might sound like an attention seeker but I love it! I love how people want to talk to me and ask me how my weekend was. I love that people actually notice me and want to know about me.  I probably love it because of the way my parents are, but I don’t care, I still love it!

I don’t have a best mate as such and I don’t hang around with just one person always. The people I hang with change daily. I hate it being this way. I want that one person who I can call my best mate. Who I can trust and tell them everything.  So I can tell them about my mum and dad. So I don’t have to keep it to myself. So I don’t feel like I need to scream at the top of my lungs when someone says something about their own family. I don’t have any family. They’re all dead, and my parents might as well be dead to me!

But anyway back to Monday. I get up and do my hair in its usual style of being combed over. All the girls love it so I always wear it this way. I iron my uniform and put it on. I take pride in my appearance, someone will point out that I look scruffy if I have a single hair out of place on my head or a crease in my shirt. I can’t let that happen. Every morning before I go to school, I tidy the house. Hoping that today will be the day that they notice. Notice that they have a son, a son who is screaming for their attention. Notice that I’m not a piece of rubbish that doesn’t need to be interacted with. After I tidy the house I set off to school with a smile on my face that hides thousands of tears that want to fall because my biggest dream still hasn’t come true. My parents still don’t acknowledge my existence. I trudge to school dreading three ‘o’ clock when I have to make this journey back to my house, where I won’t be greeted with a loving smile and the question ‘How was your day at school honey?’.  But still a boy can dream. Right? 

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