Hi guys, I've had a bit of a writer's block for my songfic so I thought I could give you a oneshot instead that, if you guys like, I could continue. Otherwise, feel free to leave me some ideas for what I can put in my other fic because I really need some help with it x
"Just piss off, Jessica, okay!" a fifteen-year-old girl moaned, storming off to the other side of the school quad.
"Looks like Zosia has a visit from Aunt Flo." Jessica muttered, nudging Tamara, who was another of Zosia's best friends.
"Just leave her, alone okay! She might have stuff going on that we don't know about! I'm sick of you constantly belittling people - it's like you think you're superior or something!" Tamara replied, with a raised voice, "And, seeing as you don't really give a shit, then I'm going after her!"
Jessica was taken aback by her normally quiet friend having a go at her and, although she didn't want to show it, she could feel herself shaking a little. She huffed as she picked up her handbag and flounced off.
...
15 year old Zosia Self (or March as she would prefer to call herself) was hiding in the school toilets. She rolled up her sleeves and traced her right index finger over the red weals decorating her wrist. She was going through a tough time, her mother's cancer had returned and she was having manic spells where she would clean the house from top to toe, answer every question in class, vow to attend netball club every week but they quickly spiralled into depression. She wouldn't want to do anything like go to school, do her homework and often questioned her existence. Zosia had thought about suicide once; she had looked up the the top of the escalators in the shopping centre and wondered who would care if she jumped. Thankfully, she was quickly shaken out of this daydream when her friends asked why she was staring. None of them had really noticed a change - 'emo' was the fashion everyone was aiming for and they just thought she was following the crowd. Her dad and Collette didn't care either, they were too wrapped up in work (or each other, she suspected) to care about her and Mama had enough troubles of her own.
Snapping back into reality, Zosia pulled the sleeve of her blazer back down and flushed the loo, not that she had used it anyway. She unlocked the stall and made her way over to the mirror and sink, to wash her hands. Her father was a neurosurgeon and she had always been taught to wash her hands for thirty seconds, using a strict ritual so it was force of habit to do so, even if she hadn't used the toilet. Shaking her hands out to dry them, before wiping them on a paper towel, she scrutinised herself in the mirror. Zosia considered herself as plain; she had brown hair, which was always tied up in a ponytail and brown eyes with clear skin - she had never had any acne. In reality, this girl was very pretty, her hair was thick and long and it shone like the sun, her eyes were deep and mysterious but she struggled to see herself in a true light, she struggled to find herself.
Zosia didn't really know who she was. She missed the days where she could be as strange, as wacky and original as she wanted, running around in the garden with her friends, not afraid to be different from the crowd. Now, there was a reinforcement to be 'normal' but she didn't know what normal was, she didn't know what she was. If she had to fill out a fact file about herself, all it would say was her name was Zosia Self and she wanted to be a surgeon but she wasn't sure what type. Some days, she didn't feel like she could be anything and her life wasn't worth living.
Maybe her life wasn't worth living. She had to make it worth living. All of a sudden, Zosia felt a new mind set finally spring upon her. A little voice in her head said, "Go on, Zosia, do something wild, you don't have to be the perfect little schoolgirl anymore. Do something drastic, make them all realise that you're strong, not vulnerable and weak." And, with that, she made a decision. Playing truant wasn't something that Zosia would even dream about but she needed to get away, run away. She didn't know where she was going but it was somewhere far, far from Holby.
...
She arrived at the train station - the nearest departure was London Victoria, leaving in 5 minutes. She purchased a single and, hastily giving the woman behind the counter five pounds, she dashed onto the platform, hoping nobody had seen her. The train would be arriving in three minutes. She went to sit on a bench but there were no spaces so she stood, although her pulse was racing and her legs were aching. All of a sudden, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Zosia jumped and turned around to find a boy who looked around the same age as her, maybe older. He was wearing his school uniform but he didn't look like a schoolboy, his tie was short, fat and loose and the sleeves of his blazer were rolled up.
"Do you want to sit down?" the boy said, "You skiving too?"
"Wait, how did you -" Zosia said, "Oh." she realised that she was still wearing her school uniform.
He smiled at her.
"My sister would go insane if she found out but I don't think I give a fuck anymore." he said, bluntly, "What's your name?"
"I'm Zosia, erm, thanks for your seat." she said, gratefully sitting down, putting her handbag down on the floor.
"Nice name. I'm Oliver. Do you wanna sit next to me on the train? We could get to know each other." he said, trying to play it cool but, inside he was boiling up. This girl was beautiful, in his eyes.
"Thanks, it's Polish. Everyone just says it's weird, I don't think I've ever had a compliment on my name." she beamed, "And yes, I'd like to get to know you better. I'd like that a lot, actually."
They smiled and the soft chug of the train approaching sealed the moment. Zosia looked into his eyes, they were ice blue and he had dark brown hair, darker than her own but not quite black. Something deep down decided that maybe running away wasn't such a bad decision after all.
