A/N: Okay so this is my first story and I really don't know how it's going to go, possible T for Triggers, with self harm and depression, maybe attempted suicide. I don't know yet xD

-Amy

Chapter 1:

What is it called when you want to do something, but you don't at the same time? It confuses me how these simple emotions can get mixed up. Love, hate, want, rejection. It's almost as if we want it to happen. We want to love who we hate. We reject those that we want. Maybe that's what life is? Experiencing that emotion, where you don't know what you want, what is real? Why you are there. And life's great adventure is finding the answers.

I don't know how long I've been sitting there, staring out of the musty window this cold November morning. It could've been hours, or mere seconds. All I know is that whilst I was thinking, I felt a sharp nudge on my shoulder.

"Amy... What are you doing? We're going to be late!" My friend, Emma planned these holidays for months. Shit, I forgot. Typical. Quickly getting her out of my room, I then began getting dressed. It took me a while as I picked something suitable for the outside world, unfortunately not my old jeggings and comfy fleece.

Thirty minutes later, we leave our flat with our luggage for the week, me in my superman jumper and jeans, her in a dress that it's far too cold to wear. Why does she always do that? I can never understand girliness. But lo behold, here we are walking through Lancaster town centre, trying our very bests not to miss this train. Not for the third time this week. I check my phone screen, to see it's 17 minutes till the train arrives. 9:03. With a train coming at twenty past, no breakfast for us this morning, not that I'd have any anyway.

"You're very quiet today. Cheer up, Charlie! We're heading to our dream holidays!" She pokes me in the ribs.

"I'm fine, honestly. You know I'm quiet in the morning. I'm trying not to miss the bloody train for the third time this week. In case you haven't noticed, we've had to reschedule this 3 times! Come on, I'll race you!" I reply, picking up my luggage and sprinting to the railway station, looking like a blue, flabby waddling penguin.

"Amy! Not fair!" She picks up her luggage, which weighs considerably more than mine since I don't wear makeup. We race through the streets, people giving us weird looks when we budge each other out of the way. Emma accidentially knocks someone over, so I get another few seconds head start as she helps him up and gathers his things. I feel a little bad so I slow down just a little so she beats me, her doing a little victory dance after putting down her luggage 2 minutes later, when we got to the red plastic front doors of Lancaster Railway station. Out of breath, I signal a thumbs up whilst I adjust my clothes so I'm properly covered again, and then we walk slowly towards the platform. I check my phone again. 10 minutes to go.

"Hey, do you even know which platform we're on?" I ask. She was wandering about for a bit, looking unsure of where to go.

"Oh. I thought you did!" She replied. I gulped, worried. After scheduling this for the third time, none of us bothered to check.

" Ugh. You planned this! Right, I'll go ask." Not wanting to move, I trudge towards the help desk and explain our situation. The female attendant, who looks about sixty, gave me a stern look as I tried my best to make sense, still out of breath. Eventually, I must've got it right because she told me the right platform. Number 6. I thank her, then walk back to Emma, who's busy checking her hair for the seventeenth time. She checks her watch, then stares at me wide eyed.

"Amy, we've got 2 minutes to get to the other side of the station. You were there 5 minutes!" She exclaimed. Oh. That's not good.

"Game on." I nod and once again start sprinting towards the stairs. She grins.

"Challenge accepted." She started the stairs two at a time. Stairs were never my expertise. But eventually, with the train just opening its doors, we arrive at the platform and thunder into our carriage. After putting our luggage away, we collapse into our seats and catch our breath.

Once we were in a state in which we could understand each other when we talked, we both knew what to say. As if we we're telepathic we both say,

"Internet."

So that's what we do. After pulling out our laptops, we spend the remaining three hours of the journey with our headphones in, just internetting. Emma's probably listening to music, whilst nibbling on her Rolos. I open up Tumblr and YouTube, and put my headphones in, and start my average journey Christathon. As usual, I start from the latest 'Everyone has darkness,' That familiar awkwardness, the ice blue eyes and the unique sense of humour make me feel comfortable again. I smile. Once the video has ended, I go onto the next one and so on, until I'm interrupted by the usual beep I've set for Tumblr notifications. I take a look, reluctantly pausing the 46 Reasons To Exist video.

An ask.

This is weird. I never get asks. I unknowingly furrow my eyebrows and read on.

"Hey ther. Ur blog seems kwl. But y are u so obsessed with christian. I dont lyk him. Kay bye" From anon. I write a medium reply on all the amazing features he has. I didn't want to send too much time on this person, not because he or she doesn't like Christian, but because I want to throw a dictionary and their face. Finally happy, I press post, and then go back to my Christathon.

About two hours later I've seen all his videos and I begin to feel tired. I'm not surprised, since I got up at stupid o' clock in the morning and couldn't get back to sleep. So I decide to snuggle into my seat, hoping that I'll wake up in time for our stop.

"Get up. Stand up you worthless piece of shit. Look at me."

I shakily stand up and look him in the eye. I don't know what gives me so much nerve this time more than any other, but I regret it as soon as I look at the grey. He knees me in the stomach and I yelp in horror, and curl up in the fetal position, trying to protect myself. He puts all his weight in one foot and stands hard with it on my arm, I shudder with the pain as I can feel my scarred arm being crushed.

"Stay exactly where you are. Move and I'll make sure you won't do it again."

Of course I'm not stupid enough to stay there. I put my crushed arm over my chest, trying to blink back the inevitable tears, and run to the bathroom we share and lock myself in. I've lived in this flat for three years and I've seldom gone out. For the other eighteen years I'd lived with my dad. I look at myself in the full body mirror and think of how I've changed since then. Scars litter my body like tally marks on a blackboard. The bruises smudge over my body like watery paint, dried blood like tears.

"Oh you naughty slut. I will find you." Shit. I crawl into the bath and pull the shower curtain over, in a desperate attempt to hide, but I can't do much since my arm is definitely broken. I hear bangs against the door, then the sound of wood cracking. Finally, he stamps through, too loud to care. I sees me, and the last thing I see is his hands around my throat before I plunge into darkness.

I wake up in a cold sweat, tears streaming down my face. Emma sees me and hugs me, knowing what I dreamed about.

"It was Mike again, wasn't it?"

I nod, gasping for air, my tears almost drowning me. Others on the train look at me in concern, and that gives me the strength to wipe away the tears and pretend I'm okay. Emma seems to believe me.

"Well, we're nearly at our stop anyway. There's no point in logging back in or going back to sleep. Want a rolo?" She asks, suddenly her usual carefree self again.

"Uhm, yeah. Thanks." I took one, hoping it would ease my anxiety. It did with the dementors in the Harry Potter series, after all. And thankfully it worked. Soon we are in a conversation that takes my mind off things, a conversation about Pokémon. And before we knew it we had reached King's Cross Station.

We gather our stuff, and head out to what is hopefully the best week of our lives.