A/N: okay so this intro is a little sick but it was a part of Polly's life that I felt had to be dealt with in order for you to know a little bit more about her :P(. Sorry guys :S

COMMENT ME AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!



I looked in the mirror and almost started to cry. They were right, the girls at school, I was ugly. I was ugly, ugly, ugly. My hair had no shape to it, it just hung there limp. I could go three days with out washing it but by the end of the second day it was greasy as anything. The third day I usually couldn't be bothered, but by the fourth day there was no putting it off any longer. Just because I couldn't be bothered didn't mean that I was unhygienic. My eye brow was like one long block of hair covering the top if my nose and eyes. Not nice. My skin was spotty and greasy and my lips were chapped. . I never bothered with make up, there was no point in trying to cover up the fact that I was ugly and every one knew I was anyway. Oh, and just to top it all of I was very, very fat. It began with comfort eating, but that quickly changed into something a little more obsessive.

I pulled my sleeve down over my wrist to cover the ugly looking scars that littered the skin there. I had to have some outlet but I didn't have any friends to cry to and if I tried to talk to my mum she wouldn't listen and would just tell me that I was beautiful the way I was. That only ever made me cry harder because I knew she was lying through her teeth- I could hear it in her voice.

'See...' a voice in my head would whisper. 'Even your own mother thinks you're hideous...'

So I turned to the only other option I could think of. And it worked, while I cut myself up I felt elated. I knew it was my brain releasing endorphins to counter-act the pain but I didn't care. I did after wards though. Once I was finished I would look down at my wrists and hate myself even more. That only drove me back to the cutting. It was a vicious cycle and I couldn't escape it.

Once or twice I almost told my mother, but I thought of what her face would be if she knew and I said nothing. I couldn't do that to her.

Suddenly I felt a familiar, overwhelming sense of self-loathing and I unconsciously reached for the blade I kept on the top shelf. I looked at it for a moment, enjoying the way the light reflected off the blade as I twisted it round and round in my hand, then I brought it down across my arm. Once, twice, three times, four times, five times... I lost track and settled into a rhythm of mindless cutting. I felt something swell inside me, like a thick bubble of happiness. I let it wash over me and the corners of my mouth tilted upwards. I knew I was sick, but I didn't care.

After a few minutes though, something changed. I began to feel very, very sick and my head started to spin a little. I shook my self groggily but that only made it worse. It was a little like being sea sick. My vision started to cloud over. I looked down at my wrist and my stomach heaved. There was too much blood. I swallowed hard to try and force the bile back down my throat but it came up regardless and I was sick all over the floor. I think I started screaming but I couldn't tell. Just before I gave into the dark, I saw the door open and my mothers face twist in agony as she saw me on the floor. She fell on to her knees beside me and then everything went black.





I left hospital for that last time a few months after that incident. I'd seen a councillor about the self harming and I no longer felt the need to resort to hurting myself in order to deal with my issues. I'd been given a strict easting plan and I'd gone to the gym everyday and I had lost a ton of weight. I'd made myself go out shopping for clothes to flatter and enhance my figure rather than hide it, and mum had taken me to a hairdressers and beauty salon to fix my hair, eyebrows and skin. Once I was finished I actually looked beautiful, something that surprised both me and my mum (although she tried to hide it).

Mum had enrolled me in a new school and I was due to start next week. I promised myself that this time round it would be different. Because this time round I would no longer be Polly Kay, the little freak with no friends. This time round, I would kick ass.





A/N: please let me know what you think!!!!!!! Any ideas at ALL for what should happen next would be SO SO SO helpful!!!

BTW: I have heeuuuuuuuggge writers block on my other story 'and this is how I screwed my life over' which is about a teen called Erin Hardwick and how she gets caught up in the world of Nathan Hughes (at leaste I think that's what I called him :S hehe:P). any ideas what so ever would be appreciated SO much!!!!!! Thankyou thankyou thankyou!!!