I looked at the picture of me, my father and mother on the wall of our hall. I laughed loudly, oh how I had changed. I was dressed rather sickly; my dark hair in two plaits over my shoulders, my face free from the dark charcoal make-up that now adorned my features. I had my school uniform done up neatly, top button and the entire fancy shin dig the school made us wear. I then looked down at myself, my skirt was no longer than mid calf, my shirt was never tucked in and my tie hung just below my third button that was undone. I simply laughed again and grabbed my bag, swinging it over my shoulder before leaving the house, lighting up my cigarette. I took a deep drag, tasting the smoke hit my tongue, holding it in for a few second before releasing it. Every time I smelt the familiar smell of tobacco, it reminded me of why my whole life had been thrown into a crazy turmoil.
On April 24th 2002, my dad passed away. I had always been so close to my dad, even at such a tender age as eight, so when I found out that he'd been killed in a car accident it broke me to pieces, that's when everything had gone the other way. To make myself feel better, I started to hang around with the 'cooler' kids in school, so that I felt a sense of belonging to someone, to people, like I was still loved. I'd do whatever they wanted me to do, and that's when things started to get scary. I was fourteen when I started smoking, doing drugs and going to parties and getting drunk nearly every night. Mom was oblivious to it all, she was so depressed after my dad died, she couldn't realize the pressure I was under, but now I don't see it as pressure I see it as an insight to the best life anyone could lead. Now, the school had completely given up on me, they no longer cared about my bad grades or random absences, which was completely fine by me. Before I turned into the way I am now, I was always the small, nerdy girl who never had any friends, but now, I was the cool one, the one boys' would constantly try to get with the one girls tried to be like, but failed. And yes, I am a very big headed person. Although, even though boys threw themselves at me, never did I succumb, there was only one guy for me, and that was my boyfriend Harry.
I met him last year, at a party. It was right at the start of the night, before I was drunk or high. He'd been the one guy that didn't throw himself at me, he stayed back, watching from the distance, until I couldn't take it anymore, went over to him, and then from there, we got on like a house of fire, if you get what I mean.
"Hey gorgeous" The husky voice filled my ears as I felt his arm snake its way around my waist.
"Well hello there handsome" I replied, passing him the roll up that was in my hands. I watched him as he brought it to his lips, taking a drag that seemed to take the life out of it with one quick intake, he threw it down to the ground, still holding the smoke inside his mouth as he flattened out the roll up, destroying it under his shoes. He brought his hands up to my cheeks, his lips opening onto mine, blowing the smoke into my mouth as he kissed me roughly. I inhaled it all, this was what Harry would do when he wanted me begging for more, he knew I just couldn't resist.
"Oh god Harry" I breathed as he pressed his forehead onto mine, smirking at me.
"You like that baby?" he whispered, bringing his lips back to mine, his breath now intoxicating every sense I had. I couldn't speak, the effect he had on me was so great. I just nodded into the kiss, causing him to smirk as I laced my fingers through his curls.
"Come to mine later, a few of the others a coming, and you can have as much as you like" He reached his hand down into his pocket, pulling out a bag of white powder, smirking. He winked before putting it back into his pocket, taking my hand and walking me into the school gates. When Harry had a 'few others' around it was always good, a time you could be completely yourself, with people just like you.