Pull the trigger.

My hospital bed. My hospital room. That's where I woke up. Why was I here? Surrounded by white walls and the corrupt smells of fresh flowers, sent in sympathy.

I examined the cards..why were people telling me to get well, to focus on myself, and that I was beautiful? There was nothing wrong with me, I didn't need to get well, I was well.

I put my head up and opened my eyes again, wondering if I would ever receive a insight to what was going on. I saw a blurred figure sitting on my bed, my mum. Why was she approving of the fact I had been locked away like a mental convict, I hadn't done anything wrong, and if I had to repeat that to my family aswell as Darren, I was just going to have to end my involvement with them.

My eyes darted around the room, trying to avoid the calm blue eyes of my mother, who obviously wanted to chat, she looked at me with that fake empathy that all people of her profession have. Shes a nurse. She swans around pretending she has seen it all before, but it's a milestone when she sees me because its heartbreaking, because im her own flesh and blood. She doesn't know what shes talking about, because im not ill.

"Han.." she starts, and I whimper uncaringly, and she looks at me like im some creature that's walked off a spaceship and into her life

"Han your in the hospital" she bravely continued

"why?" I asked, beads of sweat forming on my forehead, I was breathing heavily because I was focusing so much, I just needed to know.

"Hannah your ill" my mum said, and my eyes widened, and glistened with the threat of tears

"im fine" I said, smacking my bed with a weak curled up fist, and it contradicted the way my voice was emotionally devoid.

"han look at yourself" my mum had answered, clearly struggling

"what about myself?" I snarled

"han, you.."

"ive what mum..ive lost weight..like girls do?" I spat, nastily, she was just jealous, they were all jealous, they were putting me here because their faces were green, they didn't know anything, they just wanted to fatten me up so I was like I used to be, the big bubbly blonde with bingo wings and a gay boyfriend. John Paul Mcqueen. My first love..not that I ever had a chance with him, seeing as he preferred his best friend to me..literally. he was gay.

"mum its just been a hard time..stop it!" I squealed, and she looked at me like I was helpless, like nobody could help me anymore because of the way I had become…I knew that stare, she perfected It the first time

"its understandable love..everything this year..ash..justin..sarah"

"you think ash had a effect on my eating. God mum your as thick as you look" I said, my voice laced with malice. Like I cared who I hurt, did they care when they were having me forced into the back of a paramedic van in front of the whole village? Did they consider my feelings when they let Rhys ride off into the sunset with my sister, as a ROMANCE..although it didn't stand the test of time, she died on the way…they didn't care about anything apart from theirselves. They just were out to humiliate me and make me ugly.

Melissa wouldn't have it. Melissa was my best friend. She was long, lean, skinny and ready to be the next big supermodel. She had helped me loose weight, draw up a effective eating plan so I could loose all the excess dress, she had given me sample sized clothes from all her modelling jobs to egg me on, and she showed me where to measure myself,how to weigh myself with astonishing accuracy..she even helped me see that eating was pointless…and so it was.

I used to be known as "Hannah the pig" I would be the joke of my family, always eating puddings and chips, and living off takeaways. I was like an elephant. Then one day, new years eve, I had had my first binge. John Paul and Craig had just left as a couple, I had a argument with Sarah and Nancy, and nothing ever felt good enough when my best friend Sarah was the village hottie and the model.

I treated myself to every food in the fridge, Christmas leftovers, Christmas puddings, cakes, crisps, stuffing them in and not giving them the chance to process before I shovelled in more.

Then suddenly, as I swung the fridge shut, my reflection caught my eye as I saw my eyes popping out of this face full of food. I had ran to the toilet and threw it up, shoving my fingers as far down my throat as they would reach, as long as everything was out and I was a normal girl size again.

I felt in control. The one thing I could control was my food, and then I met Melissa and things only got better. We made plans to leave together, go and visit Italy, one of the fashion capitals of the world, I had always wanted to go. We got as far as going back to my house for my passport, we were happy, until my menacing brother Rhys came and tried to escort her out. I screamed, punched him with my bony fists, while Melissa stood in the corner, now struggling.

Then suddenly, Josh cried out, and I looked around to see my best friend slowly suffering a heart attack on the floor, she was shaking, having a fit, her eyes were drumming soundlessly into the back of her head, my mum ran in and tried to revive her, but it had been too late my the time the paramedics had came.

That night I felt like I had lost a part of me..she had helped me, taken pictures of my body for me to show me how I was doing, she was a inspiration and now I had to carry on without her. She had warned me that without her, I would become fat again, without her constant support, people would tell me that I was ill, try and get me to believe it too, and it happened. I was heaved into hospital, and sat in a bed, being pumped again and again with fluids, being made to eat kid sized meals, and the portions slowly got larger and larger. I got released, and ate properly for ages..but I was waiting to relapse, my family were on tenterhooks, they were expecting it.

And then the love of my life, Justin left me, abandoned me as he went off for life on the run, leaving me, the person he had promised he would never go anywhere without because he loved me. Maybe he secretly didn't, maybe he said it to please me…maybe I was just another notch on his bedpost, another one for his little black book, someone he could boast about to all his mates, like he cared about me.

I told Sarah this theory, she scoffed. Talking about how he saved me from ash, the motorbike accident, the pervert garage man, and how he risked his life in the fire..but it had all been out of guilt, that didn't mean he loved me. I was his charity case. And then there was Jamie..i went to a festival to escape, and found myself falling for a drug dealer who hid his drugs in a out of service ice cream van, he had pretended we could have a new life, that we could be together, but the same day I had to catch the bus back to Hollyoaks because it was another affair that wouldn't work because he never loved me..and then as I stepped off the bus, I walked into Sarahs dad..i asked him how Sarah was and he frowned at me, took my arm, took me aside..he told me Sarah was dead..killed by her parachute not opening. And Zoe had gone down for it. and then a couple of weeks later, Zoe was stabbed by Lydia, who had killed Sarah. And they said I only had a bit of stress in my life? I had more then they had ever had to face..did they even know what stress was?

My face wobbled as I saw the way my mum looked at me, my father through the window looked repulsed that I was related to him, that I was in a mess. Darren was on the other side of him, with his fake worry and his "tender" caring side, which I couldn't care a less about. Rhys and Josh stood, looking like they were united, looking like they would look after me, but I knew that would never happen.

They couldn't control me.

I wanted to control myself

They had controlled my whole life.

My turn now.