Compulsive Lies

〰Chapter 1〰

It wasn't always like this. I wasn't always like this. I used to be happy and nice, maybe for a while we were a happy family. And I had a good life. But that was when I was 7...

It all started off as small lies, to get away with things, to get attention or my brother into trouble. I was a pretty bad big sister, I still am.

I was so used to being treated like a princess that i was shocked to see I wasn't getting all the attention. I had an Attention Deficit Disorder for a while, that was until the end of primary school (about the age of 11/12) I started becoming concerned about my looks and blah blah blah.

So after that happened I started being ok with things and not so needy. I started to hate attention. After what my mum had told me what my step-father done to her I couldn't face him or the world. I didn't realise it was that bad. I thought it was just arguing. I was clueless. He tried doing it to me a few times. Got away with many other times, but what he done to my mum was unspeakable.

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and depression and all that shit stuff. We got our "fresh start" only for it to be teared down again.

I became antisocial and angry. I was always in a mood. I hated taking all that medication. I was popping fucking pills at the age of 12, that shouldn't be done. It made me feel emotionless, plain and boring.

I moved to a new school and made some bad decisions and mixed in with the bad crowd.

〰〰

5:30 am and what am I doing? In bed? Nope. I'm on a run. Yes a run. Not compulsory, just going on a run.

My music was playing through my ears but I wasn't paying attention to it. I hated running. Always have. Always will. But I was burning off this energy I had. I can never sleep, that's when all my thoughts, mistakes and shit comes to my head. Probably another thing to add to my list, insomnia.

The cold air hurts as I breath heavily through my nose. I am not fit in any way. I used to be fat but thanks bulimia.

I come to a hill and stop for a minute. I put my hands on my knees and try catch my breath. I feel a bit dizzy and my mouth feels dry but full of blood. I start walking the way I came.

I have my hood up because cities never sleep and I don't want anyone to recognise me. And knowing my friends they'll be in any dark alleyway at this time. Looking for drugs or other stuff.

I feel a shiver down my spine, like someone's watching me, their eyes burning holes into the back of my head. I know it might just be a feeling but it's never wrong.

I slowly turn my head right behind me to see a boy in the distance, not that far but far enough for me not to make out his face.

He looked about my age (15) but was dressed smartly. He started walking towards me, me having no sense of fear stayed put.

But it wasn't just that, I felt his eyes glue me to the floor. But I stood strong and I wasn't budging. I have a small pocket knife in my bumbag. My mum gave it to me when we moved to the city.

He was now 3 or 4 meters away from me. He has dark brown hair like me with crystal blue eyes, quite bright.

He had a confused look on his face. He came closer and closer to me.

Our eyes were locked. He let out a deep breath from his mouth, making a cloud of vapour rush to my face.

His breath smelt of chewing gum but a hint of cigarettes. He smirked.

"Don't you remember me?"