Love Yourself So No One Has To

Prologue

Dear Hazel ,

You're back with your dad now , so I can't talk to you face to face anymore . I miss being able to do that . I miss you .

We're back to letter writing , although you haven't replied to any of mine . I can kind of understand why , I guess . But you should understand exactly what happened , why I believed her – and why she did it anyway . It's only fair . You can judge me all you want , but you should hear the full story first . So hear goes .

What follows is everything , from the beginning until … well , where we are now . And after that , it's up to you what happens . Between us , anyway .

Attached is everything that's happened , from my side of the story . Right from the very beginning .

Forever your sister ,

Pommie

When I was born , my mother decided that she didn't want me . In fact , I'm pretty sure that she had decided that long before my birth . In the very least , I'm grateful that she didn't decide to have an abortion . She had the decency to give me a chance at life .

She gave me a stupid name . Pomegranate . Who names their child after a fruit ? Or at least a fruit with a wacko name like that ? Cherry , I could understand . But Pomegranate ? Really ?

When I was growing up in foster care , generally people would call me Ana . In fact , some people thought I should legally change my name to Ana . But I never wanted that . Some part of me always hoped that my mother would change her mind . And if I changed my name , she would never find me .

In one foster home , the women in charge was British . People would nickname her Pommie – just as a joke . I think she must have had a soft spot for the little shy girl . She never called me Ana , I was always Pommie to her . She taught me not to be ashamed of my name , of my parents . It stuck , Pommie . Faster than Ana did . And I preferred it too . I'm still Pommie , ten years later .

Growing up in foster care , there are generally two paths to go down . The rebel path , with no fufture apart from the inside of a holding cell . Or the studious one , which will eventually lead to college and a good , respectable future .

It seemed obvious for me to choose the latter . I've never been one to cause trouble , and I'm good at academic things . At a young age , I set goals . I vowed to do well in all my exams , and go to university with a scholarship in English Literature . After that , I'd get a job . Perhaps a journalist , although I wouldn't be good in interviews . But I'd find something . I knew that I would .

And then it changed . The structure of my life changed , my dreams , my ambitions . I realised that I didn't have to go down one of those two paths . Instead , I could do whatever the hell I wanted .

Yes , I had been adopted . By a rockstar , no less ! Rian Dawson , the drummer of All Time Low . He taught me lessons I didn't know existed . And he made me a better person .

We all went on tour together , which was awesome . But then we had to cancel the last few shows , because of Hazel's dad taking us to court for custody . Which didn't turn out too well . Over the six months Hazel lived with her father , we wrote to each other . Which leads me up to a good point to start . Really start .