Hi. I don't know what to write here. I don't own anything... Not Sherlock... Not any of it. Oh well. This is just my story. Please read and let me know what you think! :)

When we're young, we're told that you should be your own person. We're expected to grow, and flourish into beautiful flowers. Some of us don't get very far. Some of us are plucked from the soil as mere seedlings, while others hang around for too long, thriving and cluttering up the ground. Whichever way you look at it however, all we do is survive. We're born, we grow, we stop growing, we die. It's a sad cycle but it is the cycle of life. For example; a beautiful orchids life cycle is typically no different to that of a maggot. So why are we all looked on as though we're in a hierarchy? The answer is: because we are.

Whether you like it or not, everyone is judged. No one can roam the Earth without someone forming an opinion of them. It's quite horrible really when you think about it. What's a life in Africa compared to one in America? Why should the value of life depend solely on where a person if from, rather than their values? Their courage? Their morals?

I mean, who am I to say? I'm just a kid. I get stroppy quickly, and I have a very short temper. That's me. I'm very self-conscious and I'd die rather than have my picture taken. It's pretty much that simple. But what do you expect? I'm a 16 year old. What else is expected of me? I'm expected to go to sixth-form and maybe University. I'm expected to get a job and get married. I'm looking at my life and all I'm seeing is a notepad with pages to be written in but no rubber incase something goes wrong. It's rather difficult to explain.

My storyline has already been written. Maybe you're remaining optimistic, which is good because someone should in this world. There are so many things I want to see and do, but my stereotype won't allow it. I'm white. I'm white and I'm constantly told to stop acting black. How does that work? I'm not a racist. I never have been and I hopefully never will. But to me, someone telling me not to be something, regardless over whether it's about skin colour, is rude. I hardly understand what constitutes as 'acting black', but at no point in my life have I gone out of my way and alternate what I actually am to something I know I can never be. I sound like I'm being slightly hypocritical now. But I'm not trying to.

I can only hope that through the course of you reading this you have gained a glimpse into my life. You don't know anything about me. You don't know what I have a dog called Titan, or a cat called Skunk. But you do now. Because I told you. I may even go as far to say that I have a goldfish called Carrot. Would you believe me? You're allowing me to get inside your head and create an image of myself. You don't know my name, you don't know what I look like. I'm there, but I am nothing. I am invisible.

That was it. I had to cover my face in my hands to disguise my embarrassment for the poor girl. I couldn't bare to see the look on the poor girls' parents face as they read that. The Walters were nice, I'd met them (sort of), at a parents evening. They really were nice though, and Beth Walter was genuinely a lovely human being. She was always smiling and always happy to see you (well not me so much but who cares?). It was a shame that it was her, really. I was much happier about the death of the one before her: Julianne Mitch. She was an incredibly dense human being.

I know it's not nice to say bad things about dead people, but who cares? They're dead. What are they going to do about it? Hit me? I actually felt quite sorry to see poor little Beth go, I really did. But Julianne... The number of things I could have said to that girl. She bullied Beth to no end, which makes it even more horrible for Mr and Mrs Walter. A few weeks ago their daughter's bully dies, and then yesterday evening their own little girl goes due to an 'overdose'. Suddenly Beth's death is being treated as suicide, a guilty generated by killing her bully- and their daughter has suddenly become a murderer, and she is defenceless against it- because she is dead too.

Anybody with half an ounce of intellectual thought knew that Beth hadn't killed Julianne. Beth couldn't kill a wasp if it stung her ten times on the face. It seemed however; that I was the only one in this pathetic excuse for a school who thought that there was no way on Earth that Beth was the murderer. Anyone who knew Beth knew that she didn't write that note. She was a sweet girl, but her English was appalling. She was forever forgetting all punctuation and styles of writing. It made her English teacher weep. It made me weep just thinking about it.

There was no way that Beth had written that letter. It was supposed to be a secret that she'd even left a note; of course the teachers are rubbish at keeping secrets. They made no effort in concealing the fact that the PE teacher was having an affair with the Maths teacher last year, nor the year prior to that when the same PE teacher had an affair with a different teacher who had then left after the 'humiliation' of it all. It was a lovely place to be.

With this in mind, it caused me no trouble in acquiring the note from the staff room and photocopying it. The reason why the Police didn't have it I had no idea, the only explanation I can think of is that it was too much a complex thought process for the person who discovered the letter to point it out to the police that there was indeed a letter left. With any luck however they weren't as incompetent as the teachers and would realise that Beth's death wasn't suicide. Even if most of the evidence did point towards exam stress for the upcoming months. There was no way that they would listen to me. I didn't even know the girl properly.

I tried to explain the scenario this to Mike Stamford, a short stumpy kid who I'd recently taken to hanging around with. He was alright really. I could tolerate him if I put my mind to it, and it was better than hanging around with my stupid older brother.

"They've taken Beth's brother out of school." Mike told me, he had his hand stuffed into a packet of crisps trying to grab as many as his porky fingers would allow for. I nodded. I wasn't all that interested. Beth's twin brother, Luke, had shared a room with me (because the biggest joy of this school is that it is boarding). I hated him. For one, he refused to use deodorant. Since we started back in September I'd managed to get through two air fresheners, and they weren't doing the trick. We'd been back two weeks.

"Well obviously." I stood up and rested my head against a tree. The fields surrounding us were green slowly transforming into yellow. From this spot, I could see most of the school building and a farm in the distance. These murders were the most interesting thing to happen here since Fred Duke microwaved the school hamster, and then tried to blame it on some kid who cried a week before hand when we had to dissect a frog in Biology. I helped prove to the Head Teacher that he wasn't the reason for poor Mr Nibbles death. I considered it a result that I only got a detention after the amount of times I pestered her about it.

"Poor sod. He was an alright guy." He really wasn't an alright guy, but I couldn't be bothered to argue as Mike pulled some crisps out and shoved them into his mouth. It was disgusting. He glanced at his watch and suddenly jumped. "Sorry mate, I've got to go. I'm meeting a new student."

"Buddy?" I asked. All new pupils were assigned a 'buddy' for their first month. Any new student who came here was either dull and boring, or was dull and boring and also a snob. There was never any variation of character. I had no doubt that this new creature would be any different to the rest.

"Yeah."

"Don't let him get in my way." I ordered, and Mike chuckled as he wobbled off back towards the school. I couldn't be dealing with new students, especially when there was finally something fun going on.

Line Break thing

I watched sourly as the walls and the pavements turned to hedges and no pavements. I couldn't help but narrow my eyes as I caught my Dad feverishly take a swig out of a hip-flask while he thought I wasn't looking either. Drink driving is no joke.

Recently my life had become one big blur of unhappiness. I knew I wasn't just being a temperamental stroppy teenager either, as my therapist often said. I perfectly good reason to be a miserable sod and she damn well knew it. But I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. So I put on a brave face and forced my way through every single one of our meetings. She infuriated me. I did try, honestly I did, but occasionally I'd let something slip. Not everything I said was horrible though. To tell the truth I wasn't even being horrible. Just a little bit... sassy? Yes. Sassy is most definitely the word.

My nostrils shrivelled at the fresh scent of manure. Withdrawing me from my train of thought. It was her fault I was here. In this car. Stupid woman. She decided I needed to get away from it. I wanted to stay. Why shouldn't I be around my parents? But nobody argues with a Doctor, right? Not even me. As much as I'd have liked to. Some of the stuff she'd come out with... I'd make a better Doctor than her.

"We're here." I had hardly noticed as we passed the large sign reading:

St Bartholomew's School

Science Academy

Dad pulled into an empty space and switched the engine off. I took my seatbelt off and reached over him. He evidently thought I was going in for a hug as he opened his arms but I wriggled round them and pushed my hand into the driver's side pocket. I pulled back into my seat, clutching the hip-flask. Dad looking down, guilt etched all over his face.

"Promise me you won't drink." I said fiercely. God knows it was the last thing that they need at the moment. "Dad."

He looked up and smiled slightly. "God, what would I do without you, John?"

I scowled. "Yeah, well, you're gonna have to get used to it. You're packing me off to this dump. Remember?"

"You wouldn't be here if we had any other option." He said, I knew he was telling the truth. The least I could do at the moment was support him as much as possible. I smiled slightly and leaned across the gear-stick again, this time going in for that hug.

"No drinking though. Especially not when driving." I said. My voice was muffled as he squeezed me. He always was the best hugger. I could tell he was crying, but I had to be strong for him. For Mum. I couldn't cry. I couldn't.

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

We finally let go of each other and I grinned at him. "I'm keeping this though." I smirked, holding up the hip-flask. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"You're too young to drink." He pointed out, and I shrugged. I unscrewed the lid, and took a swig myself. It tasted sweet and wonderful. I would have tossed in some coke and ice in with it too though personally. From where I was sitting I could see a bin, I pushed open the car door and stepped outside. The air was bitter and cold. I needed more of the whiskey.

Instead however, I strode over to the bin and tossed the hip-flask into it. I then turned around and walked calmly back over to the car.

"You don't need to get out." I told Dad, as I shut the door and positioned myself in front of the boot. It clicked open and I dragged my suitcase out. I may or may not have scuffed the bumper, I felt a bit guilty but then I shrugged it off. It'd give him something to remember me by though. I'd brought all my stuff here. Including my favourite jumper knitted for me by my Nan.

I dragged the suitcase around to the drivers side, and my Dad had done down his window. He was holding out a phone.

"You're giving me a phone?" I asked, my forehead creasing slightly.

"... Yes." He said finally. I took the phone out of his hand and twirled it around in my fingers. I knew whose phone it was. He then gave me the charger.

"Have fun. Try not to get in too much trouble." He grinned.

"What're you on about? Nothing every happens to me." I smirked, tucking my phone into my pocket before beginning my long journey around several shrubberies and towards the front of the school. I turned around a give my Dad an awkward thumbs up. He'd be okay. I'd be okay.

I exhaled loudly. This was it.