I'm here with a new fanfiction that I have been playing with for a while and I didn't intend on uploading this until I completed Can You Keep a Secret but I just couldn't resist! This story is a bit different to the things that I have written before but you know me, I love writing angst so I will warn you all now that this story is definitely going to be quite dark at some places but there will be good moments too, you'll just have to bear with me! I have to admit that I got the idea for this story from the episode of Bedlam that Kathryn Prescott is in, I love her and it's so sad to watch but it's great too. So it's mixed with that, as well as some things that are quite personal to me as well as exaggerated for the sake of the story. Anyway, have a read of this and let me know your opinions. It's going to be quite slow paced at first to build up the story, especially Emily's story which I'm hoping you'll all take to. Let me know your thoughts and if you haven't already, check out my other Skins stories too!

Many thanks guys, I hope you enjoy this!

Made of Scars

Chapter 1

Emily's POV

'Pull the knife from my ever bleeding heart. Tell me now your words never meant me harm.'

There was darkness inside of me that I couldn't seem to overcome. I couldn't escape the feeling that I wasn't supposed to find happiness in my life, not when every way that I turned, something would go wrong. Everything around me always seemed to fall apart; I broke everything that I touched. Anyone who knew me was better off turning and running in the opposite direction before I fucked them over too. But people were too god damn naïve and tried to convince you that they could handle it, and maybe they could for a while but it never lasts, they always left eventually.

I realised after a while that it was easier to be the one who runs away, hurt them before they hurt you. It's sad when you realise that nobody really cares. Everyone's out for themselves no matter how much they tried to pretend that they're not. I was a miserable person, incredibly negative and cynical and I struggled to move on from the past so I let it consume me instead. I didn't like being this way but it wasn't really my fault, people fucked me over, people ruined my life and I had become bitter because of it. I was only nineteen, I should have been like everyone else at my age but I couldn't. I had tried so hard to make things work but someone always managed to ruin it for me until I finally ended up digging myself into a hole that I couldn't climb out off. I ran away from everything that I knew which was how I had ended up in London. Maybe I could change if I got away.

Two hours after unpacking I finally collapsed on my bed with a sigh of exhaustion. I hadn't stopped all day, having driven from Bristol to London, collected the keys for my apartment and signed my tenancy, then unloaded everything from my car and carried it to my apartment on the third floor. Since then I had spent all of my time unpacking, arranging everything to the way that I wanted it.

I had to admit, I was impressed by my hard work but I was hungry and exhausted. Moving home whilst you were battling with insomnia and had maybe about four hours sleep in the past three days was definitely not fun. However, I knew that even if I tried to sleep I'd be wide awake within ten minutes after closing my eyes, so I didn't bother.

I sat up and raked my hand through my tousled bright red hair and huffed in annoyance. My apartment was eerily quiet which I definitely was not used to. I tried to swallow the thickness that was beginning to spread up my throat, suddenly feeling incredibly alone. I was used to feeling that way but I didn't want to, I had made this move by myself, I had done it for myself, I needed to remember the reasons why and I had to deal with it.

I subconsciously brushed my hand down the fading marks up the inside of my forearm before jumping up and turning to my I-pod on my bedside cabinet. I shoved it onto the dock and pressed play, blasting Nickelback into my quiet room. I smiled slightly, beginning to feel a little better as I sung along, trying to keep myself distracted.

I fixed up a sandwich and sat arranging my CD's and DVD's before placing them into the cabinet of which my TV sat upon. Afterwards I sorted through my clothes, folding some into the drawers and putting others onto the hangers in my wardrobe. By the time I was done, it was only ten o'clock and there was nothing left to keep me busy.

I grabbed a bag, shoving a towel and my swimming costume into it as well as shampoo and shower gel before heading out the door. I had purposefully chosen this apartment because it was attached to a gym which was left open for residents to use as long as we signed in and didn't cause any damage. I made my way to the changing rooms, quickly slipping into my black costume and pulling my goggles around my neck. The gym and pool were deserted, much to my relief. I perched on the side of the pool, dipping my legs into the lukewarm water and sighed at the familiar smell of chlorine. It was comforting.

I pulled the goggles over my eyes and slipped of the edge, crashing straight through the water and sinking to the bottom. I twisted around elegantly and pressed my feet against the side before pushing off and gliding across nearly half of the pool. I pushed my arms out in front of me as my legs moved in a frog like kick, propelling me through the water until I reached the opposite end. I kicked up to the surface and gasped as I pulled oxygen back into my lungs.

Wasting no time, I pushed off the side once again. My arms cut through the water with ease as I front crawled back towards the other end. I repeated this a few times before alternating between the breast stroke and back crawl. After losing count of how many laps I had done, I grabbed the side and pushed myself out, wincing slightly as my muscles protested from the strain. I removed my goggles, dropping them beside me as I panted for breath. My muscles throbbed and tingled as I stretched them out to ensure they didn't cramp before I got up to take a shower to rinse myself off the chlorine.

I loved swimming; it was one of my favourite hobbies. I had been doing it for years, finding solitude in an empty pool and relief as I was surrounded by water. It was an escape that made me feel exhilarated and strong. Nothing could plague my mind as long as I was swimming and it was also a great way to pass time as it was now gone midnight.

I headed back to my apartment and put my towel and costume into the washing machine before I changed and climbed into bed before grabbing my laptop. I opened a new word document, pursing my lips as I tapped my fingers against the keys in thought.

Writing was my passion. I had been doing it for as long as I could remember, writing silly novels as a kid before I grew up and gained some life experience, maybe too much for my liking. No matter what mood I was in I could turn to writing and it'd save me from my mind. I could create whatever I wanted and I could picture it all, playing it through my mind like a movie I had seen a thousand times. In my mind, it was all real and for a while I could escape into something that wasn't my life. It was all I wanted to do; it was the only thing I believed I was vaguely good at. I knew since I was a kid that one day I'd eventually have a published novel or I'd be writing for TV and film. It was my goal, my dream but unfortunately life got in the way sometimes.

After a moment of thinking, I began to type. My fingers danced across the keys as I allowed my imagination to flow as I wrote about a troubled girl who was trying desperately to escape herself and her life. I began to wonder how I could ever really express my life in words when I couldn't even comprehend it within my messed up mind. All I hoped was that something would come my way and show me what I was supposed to do.

So, yours thoughts and opinions so far? Let me know by clicking the review button below! The next chapter is in Naomi's POV so here's a sneak peak to keep you all intrigued!

Chapter 2

I honestly believed that we were all supposed to be together, that's what kept us so strong. We were even the ones to come up with the idea for Behind The Mask which was a rather successful supernatural teen drama. We were all between the ages of twenty one to twenty three and had been working on this program for a couple of years already. To say our lives were pretty great was a definite understatement.