It's better to have loved and lost than to have lived and not loved.

Chapter 2 There it was. Everything I hoped wouldn't happen. No one was staring but people were definitely talking. Glances were thrown my way but nothing that lasted more than a second. I could hear them whispering my name, repeating my story, passing it around the school. One by one, eventually no one will be oblivious to my story; they were bound to find out one way or another. It was inevitable. The day droned on and yet all I could think about was that boy. The mystery boy. The boy that had stared right through my soul. Searching for something, something not visible to the human eye but there just the same. There was something about that one boy that caught my attention; I was used to people staring but this was different. He wasn't staring because he knew, he was staring because he wanted to know. Something tells me it's not just my story he's so intrigued about. Finally the day ended; one day down just the rest of the year to go. My mind was still fixated on that one boy, nothing could nudge my train of thought, not even when I came home from school and spoke to my mother, not even when my parents had yet another argument; screams filling the house. All I could think about was the boy. He was nothing special just an average looking boy, not popular but not alone, just simple and that's what frightened me to death. X X X I hardly slept last night, still entranced by the boy. Today as soon as I woke up I convinced myself that there was no way he was staring at me, he was just a figment of my imagination, pure fiction. I couldn't waste time thinking about him today I have enough homework to do and I've already got a Shakespeare exam within the next few weeks. Let's just say Shakespeare's not exactly my strong point as it is, so I should use all the time I can get learning about him instead of fantasising about some boy I haven't even spoken to before.

Chapter 1 "Bitch." the biting tone brought me back to reality; the words stung and my face flushed but I guess I deserve ever bit of abuse that comes my way. These were the first words I heard as I sat in my car outside school, daydreaming. Daydreaming about when #life was simple, easy but that's all gone now in the flicker of an eye; disappeared at my doing. I looked down at the bumpy White scars covering my wrists; I absently ran my fingers across them as I got out of my car, until I noticed something. I could feel someone watching me, their stare boring into me. It made me feel vulnerable, like a diary that had been found underneath a pile of dust and torn open, open to anyone. I quickly turned round and saw a boy staring at me, watching my every move. I instantly pulled my sleeve back over the scars and walked away. Who was that boy? I've never seen him before and yet I feel like I've known him for years, like he knew my story and it made me feel weak at the knees. What if he did know my story, I couldn't take it if yet another person knew what had happened what I had done... As I was walking away I turned back to see the boy still staring; his dark eyes curious, probing. Feeling uneasy I turned back once again and almost ran to my first lesson. He must be about sixteen, my age and yet I've never seen him before. Ever. How strange? How could I go three years almost four of going to the same school and not notice someone who is quite possibly in my own year. As many thoughts ran through my mind I hadn't realised the time, it was already ten past nine; so I'd missed morning registration and part of my first lesson. Oh god I'm going to be in so much trouble!

Prelogue It's not my fault. That's what I tell myself. Though it is my fault; whatever way you look at it. But what's done is done...right? People say mistakes happen for a reason, make us who we are, even that doesn't help; it just clarifies what I am. A monster.

Man's World I don't mind living in a man's world as long as I can be a woman in it - marilyn Monroe