Hello.
My name is Laia Iris, I am 15, and I'm broken.
I guess I'm pretty straightforward too.
I am in grade 10, but I rarely go to school. I have no friends.
The teachers think of me as a burden, or one of those children.
The only thing I have is my personal bully.
I like to think of myself as the ugliest girl in the world, with my blonde hair and brown eyes.
If my life were a fairytale, my blonde hair would cascade down my back perfectly like a silky golden waterfall and my brown eyes would shine with joy and happiness.
Instead, my dirty blonde hair falls uselessly down my back, and my eyes are the color of dog crap.
People say that the prettiest eyes have cried the most tears, the best smiles have suffered the most and the kindest souls have been through the most pain.
Let's try this again.
My name is Laia Iris, I am 15, and I have no family.
I have been shipped from foster home to foster home, all over England.
I am worthless.
I am useless.
I am alone.
I am broken.
But not for long.
Because tonight, all this ends.
I won't be worthless, useless, alone or broken.
I'll simple be gone.
