When I woke up I thought about the orange on the mirror, and how I had tried to fit myself in the mirror earlier last morning. A cold whistle hit me on the head from the wind, and I struggled to remember what had happened yesterday. I could feel the weight of the wind upon my breasts. Roses coloured the wallpaper in my room, light and worn-out they were; the red was very bright, and the thorns were so clear, but they were all dying like the pale rose sitting next my mirror. I had then buttoned up my clothes, the wind lightly expanded under my shirt – coming from the open window outside. When I was finished, I had opened the curtains; the outside reminded me of a garden that I would make up in my head, I would visit there sometimes and it would give me a sense of nostalgia, it was full of lilies and roses.
The mirror.
I do not know why, but I had decided to put on make-up unlike other mornings; I lightly hid my face, my lips were covered by a very bright red lipstick. I would have to wash it out later, but it would protect me early in the morning. When I finished trying to fit my body in the mirror, I turned a minute and opened the door before I had left my room. I then had left my house, and I was left alone by myself for a while.
The winter had taken over the trees, the leaves fell and died, corpses upon the ground, to be broken by my walking feet. I saw that the leaves looked lifeless upon the trees, dead upon the ground as they screamed as they had cracked. I noticed how white I was upon a crisp sun and morning, my legs were hurt from a fall yesterday, hiding from my shadow and the cold, bleeding and bruised - my white legs were cracked. The distant wind had forced upon me through the fog, and I thought about how I shouldn’t have been wearing the clothes I wore that day. A distant smell of blood lingered through the morning, I could see it in the blazing sun which had hidden itself away. I felt warm under my skin, pulling my clothes together.  I then felt sick and blurry, as I slowly was reminded of myself. I was tired, so I had tried to sit down and get rid of that hazy morning and forget myself. The leaves completely surrounded me as I had sat down, they were red.
I had remembered how I was afraid of being crushed by my own body, I felt sicker every day, as I would worry every day about death – I was pulled down by my weakness. I did not feel a single change from yesterday, just pain, I did not wanted to say I did not like it, I was just tired. I tried to tighten my skirt, while sighing heavily, and cross my legs. My head blurred and reddened in fire and pain, being surrounded by the cold, being too weakened to get up, I had then tried to slowly get up promising myself a hint of warmth and hope when I got there. The taste of beer on my throat had reminded me of the question of what I wanted to be, I was reminded of that the whole day.
A cigarette in my hand had just managed to stay alight in the cold, however, there were people looking at me. This was the first time I had worried about people looking at me while I was smoking, or how people might have thought about the length of my skirt – a woman passed by to give me a single look. An old man looks at me, I pass by a boy.
I had passed by three boys standing upon the shade of the leaves around the motorway, I looked at them silently as they looked at me; I got districted by the greenery leaves and bushes upon the motorway, a beautiful garden of trees and leaves resided by the side of noise that cracked as the cars went by me. Somebody notices who I am; I went by him silently, feeling more annoyed than anything else, I might have been afraid that I had felt a little flattered – I don’t know why -  I have never felt this when this had ever happened to me – I still hated it. My body disgusts me, I hate being trapped into something that would crush me for my whole existence; it is me, it is who I am, I disgust myself – I am disgusted by myself. Outside I know I look pretty, I was told that several times,
13/17
I care about my worth, but my body is hideous and I hate the way it works – I am trying to validate myself, I hate my mind, but my mind is my body.
I stand by someone I know standing in the shade of the tress, I try to avoid it. I walk straight into the bus, I walk up stairs staring out from the window I see him look up to see me. He walks out a bus stop before. I started to question why, and why I was acting the way I was.
I hide myself from everybody as I walk out, I do not want to talk to anybody in shame. The thoughts I was feeling dirtied myself and my body, it dirtied my soul – I doubt if I thought of myself as a good person. I felt blurry and hazy as I walked, scared that anyone would see me in what state I was in. I hate myself, and I hate everything I do. I regret who I am, who I have become as a person. I feel sick about myself, I feel weak and horrified, I can’t escape that – I want to be someone else, anyone else is better than me. People might see something in my face, I stayed away from others to see if they couldn’t read my thoughts. I had wondered, what is wrong with me? While feeling weak, I talked to some friends of mine, having a high opinion of me, as I was naked by my heart beat pumping through my body; a thousand thoughts slurred through my mind, I was weak through the voice when I had answered – they couldn’t have seemed to notice anything.
I thought I saw him again, walking through the lilies, near the shade by the sunlight of the trees; the flowers and the school’s bushes, he waited in the garden in the light of the sun. I went straight towards him, I wondered why, I wanted to talk to him because nothing that happened today made sense – there was only a silence that lingered between us from yesterday, hitting upon me I looked him into the eye opened my mouth – nothing came out.
Yesterday. What happened then? I walked down the street, I saw a child; I saw some trees, I saw a bird, then I saw you. You talked to me. I may have felt alone then, the wind blew gently under my skirt. I felt weak, very, very weak; you said that tomorrow it’ll happen, the glass was broken that day – we kissed behind the trees. Tired, I was too tired for it, I whispered again and again. When the youth of England died, we hid behind the darkness. We buried its soft naked corpse under the old English soil, the waves of Britain receded.
I did not feel as if my hands were weak, my hands were cold. Harsh was the cry of the child, I was sick all night. A blade thrusted inside of my gut, I bled until death. I lost, a dog cried. Fearing, I ran; so I had dreamed the whole day, I was not what I wanted to be. I did not think the way I was supposed to. I noticed that someone noticed the way I walked that day, I wanted to be left alone from you; I hate you, I do not want to talk with you at all. Don’t look at me. I am only telling you this because I need to, I don’t want you – I need you. I make myself feel sick, but it all your fault that day; your hands are full of my blood, I said, my breasts were torn apart. I want to look at others in the eye, but you, I hate you. All you need is me, I am sick of being alone –
I looked at the stupid figure in front of me, the shadowy coat; it stared at me, my eye, for ages. Broken leaves, engulfed in puzzles. In the evening, desolate, hidden by thick fog, the silent face for me; I then moved my mouth, pushed sound from my throat, and I said some words to him.
“I missed you”
I then went towards him and hugged him, we kissed under shade. We held hands.
“I feel a little tired today, I can’t walk any further. Normally I am fine during the mornings, but today I feel weak.”
I grabbed his hands harder.
14/17
While grabbing his hands, and resting my head on his shoulder, I saw a girl distant in the trees. She was long gone by the time I saw her, and she had only been a faint ghost to return and haunt us. Her face was tired, her eyes dragged out, barely dressed and the look of her disgusted me and made me turn away.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When we was kids she would stay a long time after we went to bed late at-night drinking. Her room is rotting, and I saw the wallpaper peel off and die the last time  I went in there. She looked sick and older then she really is,  I think  it might have something to do with her boyfriend. Her whole life has been like this. When we was kids we were ignored by her, she couldn’t take care of us, we had to find something else. I feel sorry for her now. She did not talk for a long time, last time she spoke to me, I knew that she was disappointed with me. She had me young as well.
When we’s walked down towards the lake, that was yesterday, the snow filled the entire lake and park. She called me a slag, she ain’t well, she said I have to take care of myself, but with the child coming I just have to forgive her. She probably expected this of me. There is nothing I can do, I am just the only one that has to take care of it. My sister went off and married a man, I don’t like him. He always comes in this with the same black hood and jeans, he seems dodgy, he has strange friends. Their house looks ruined, I have been there. They have a screaming child to take care of now, he can’t take care of himself. I must have only seen her twice, once she married, I barely have anyone else anymore apart for the man I am with. she doesn’t call me or anything
We are now alone together.
I myself don’t have any friends. I felt alone for a really long time, I haven’t talked to anyone since I left school on leave. I speak to very few people now. I feel happy when I am by him, I feel better about myself, I love him, though everybody else hates him.  I spend most of my time with him, or by myself, with him. My mum once said “I ain’t got no time to bother about your mistakes, you give away your body however you want’, something like that, and she went on and on, she’s right. But he still makes me feel better about myself.
My life feels like it’s going one way. I can’t escape that, the way I talk and the way I look ain’t helps. Nobody pays attention to us because of the way we talk, I think I disgust a lot of people. I never had a chance anyway, I never studied in school, I don’t know what to do – I will rely on him, his job pays reasonably well.
 I had decided to keep him because I thought that I shouldn’t be ashamed of my own body, I didn’t want to lose something that I only just had, something that, that will love me; I am grown up now, I will be sixteen, I have to make the independent decision and stand firm in what I wanted, I know that I can take care of him. I have spent some time buying: clothes, nappies, a wheelchair, toys and such. We’ve been preparing. I realised that he will be someone that I can have and keep for myself, to be by me, and I am not going to give him away. When I told him that I was gonna keep him, he sounded a bit unsure about it, but he never left me…he never left me.
I want to raise my child properly. I once knew a kid who was always outside, even late at night, I never bothered about him. I only saw him alone, then they came to take him away from his parent’s. I worry about my child.
When we’s was very young, our father left and went missing. I was eight. He brang me up to the same lake. I do not know why he left. His big hands were around my shoulder, those hands protected me. His hands remind me of my dad’s.  Looking back, I think I know where he was all going
15/17
towards, he looked so ill at the time. She had a boyfriend after that, I would rather not talk about him. She used to work for long hours, she just lost her job.  She can no longer work again.
She can’t take care of herself.
I am trying to make things better, life isn’t that bad, I feel happy most of the time. It’s strange, but I really do. When we was together, looking at the swans. It was so simplistic. But the swans, with their thin necks, and white bodies took us somewhere else. We go other places as well, we go places where I can forget everything and stay with him.
The first time we slept with each other was when we had been together for months, I knew he wanted more from me. I was walking home after school, then I saw him. I think we talked for some time, though, we ended up going to his house. A very nice house. Inside we talked for a bit, he tidied his house from the last time, I drank and one thing led to another. With his arms upon my breasts, inside, I felt warm. He held me, we used each other, but he held me. The day was covered in sweat and pain, but I was happy to get it over and done with. I felt happy this time. But the kiss, was warm and out of reach, it was meant for me. In the passion he sucked what he could out of me. The kiss lasted a while, it lasted longer, I felt excited, he was upon me, and them, it was finished. That was our time together.  We woke up lying against each other, and then I realised I had to leave.
I visited my sister once, I remembered. The house was sad, the trees were withered. The winter left mist on the gloomy day. I looked through the windows, I could not see inside. I came by myself, I had to get away from something that happened some time ago. I knocked on the door. I could hear the screams of a child. My sister opened it, she looked surprised to see me. I said I wanted her and needed only her at that moment.
We went inside, the wallpaper was coloured by flowers. The wallpaper was peeled off at the end of the living room. The whole house was full of flowers. A dying rose sat at the end of window, red and passionate at one side and violet at the other. She told me to sit down. She said that she wouldn’t call my mother.
“Do you remember that time when we spent the day in the garden?”
“Yes, you picked up the violets and then I picked up the roses. The bees buzzed around them, I was afraid of them so I kept calling for you. I remember crying when I crushed the roses under my foot when I dropped them. You were ill that day, you couldn’t escape the bed the next day, I liked that house – I am sad we never saw him again”
Then her husband came and saw me, I saw the look on his face.  He asked me why I was here. She explained it for him, I always hated him. I spent the day in that room, I was left alone a while when they had to talk to each-other. I could hear exactly what they were talking about. When we sat down again, his shadow reflected itself on the wall. I noticed that when we talked to each other. I noticed the rose looked lonely by itself on the window.
“Yesterday. Oh, have you told her? I am trying to find a new job, after what happened, we cannot come tomorrow”
That was not what he said.
“I can’t take him anymore, it’s this again. I lose so much for that child, I have felt so tired yesterday I could not wake up”
That was not what she said. I didn’t hear a thing from either.
16/17
Then she went up, and that screaming child, through a tantrum, destroying the house was gone up with her there and went. I don’t want my child to be like that.  I spent the whole day listing to that.
We went home the next day, I spent the whole day in the house listening in silence.
I notice something about him. Sometimes he looks sad, even when he is just with me. I know he aint perfect. Maybe he is just using me to get away from something. I don’t know much about his life, I only know him. I only want to know him. Sometimes he tells me that he is frustrated, and I am sad that I can’t help. But he has to take care of me, because he is the only one that can. We have to spend so much time together by ourselves….
I know that I will suffer with my child, and that my life will lead to nothing, but at least I can think I can take care of him.
I know I fell in love with the roses. The heat always fall down upon the sun. The grass was green this morning, the pain from yesterday has gone. I do not know what to do with myself, when the lost day is gone, the only time I can feel the glitter of paradise – is when I am with the hand of my one. I think to myself over and over, I have something to tell to him. I love old fairy-tales. They have no relation to reality, what happens and all is inside of me; that is all that I care about, damaged and red-pettled away from the outside – lost in – paradise. What do I do to question myself, and the sick body I have? What use is to spread this message, or only tell a fruitless, hated tale, of my hated world? Is it to remember the one I love?
The day had settled from this morning, I remember the girl I saw in the morning. She sickens me. I walk to him towards the end of the road, holding until I could remember every inch of the body that I am tightened to. And I am lost in this fairy-tale, he comforts me until tomorrow, even though I don’t need him. So we walk to the end of the road, painted into each other’s eyes, until I hold him and we kiss each other good-bye. I saw the girl again, as white and as cheap as a ghost. People like her disgust me, because I do not want to live in that world. Her face depresses me. I want to walk on my own towards the rest of the journey. I try not to look at her,
I turn my head, people like this should not belong in the world, I always hated people below me.
That is all.
The End.