Disclaimer: I don't own skins, not even one little bit

Set: Katie is late to the reunion and has woken up in her flat.

Katie jolted awake. She was late, always, always late. She felt sick. She was going to be sick for the first time in a year that wasn't caused by alcohol or drugs. Shit. Get to the bathroom in time, then turn inside out Katie. Get rid of yourself, starting from the inside. It's your fault. All your fault. You should be ashamed.

The fragments of her thoughts rearranged themselves sleepily, not asking for consent from her conscious mind.

You're supposed to be meeting them today, but they're better off without you. They'd be much happier. Look at where they've come from Katie. All over the fucking world; they moved away, got out of Bristol but you're stuck here in the waste you made for yourself. No, you are the waste, and they all had to get away from you. Couldn't even hold down a boyfriend, you're that disgusting. Ugly. Emily's prettier than you, she's meant to be your identical twin and she's more beautiful than you. She could be the individual but you can only be the clone.

You learnt to play the piano but what good was it, you couldn't stick at it. You bitch and you hate to make yourself feel better, then you hate yourself even more. There's nothing you can do. Who cares about slaggy clothing to show yourself off – what is there to show off? You're just a body. Something everyone uses then discards, because you're disposable, replaceable.

The phone rang.

"Katie, where are you?" a voice only slightly different from hers asked once she picked up.l

"Getting ready, you tit, I've got to look good, haven't I? Though I can't do much worse than you," she laughed a stranger's laugh in return. You could hear the sharp intake of breath Emily made, but it was not out of pain, it was out of frustration.

"Get here now."

When they were younger, just after Katie lost control over Emily, Emily would have insulted her back but now Emily didn't even bother.

She doesn't care about you, Emily. She's your sister and she doesn't even care.

The phone was disconnected and the bedraggled, undressed Katie sat staring at it. Instinctively she reached for her foundation, not even taking her eyes off the phone then smothered it all over her face. There were marks and whole canyons on her skin from years of chemical substances being smeared on there, dark circles underneath her eyes and scars from when Effy decided to hit her over the head with a rock. Cover up the mistakes, Katie, the old regrets carved into your skin for the world to see. Red lipstick, fake eyelashes, everything fake because the real you is revolting.

Katie began pulling on a silk leopard skin dress, far too small for her recent weight gain and shuddered slightly when familiar footsteps sounded in her flat. He repulsed her, her…no, he wasn't a boyfriend. Katie had known what a boyfriend was once, but now she only knew of different men every week who tried to make the loneliness bearable, but only made her feel worse. She had even forgotten this man's hair colour.

"Katie," he said, as if he was proud he could remember her name. "Babe, I want you."

She froze. God, not now.

"I'm about to go out, don't be a cock," she said forcefully. The tantrum was coming.

"Whenever I'm in the bloody mood, you're always going out!" he screamed like an overgrown baby. Sitting down next to her and grabbing her arm, she turned around, anger spilling from her eyes. His hair was bleached blond.

"Just fuck off, ok! I'm meeting friends. It's important."

He snorted.

"Friends!?"

He saw her face crumple. The only time she had let down her guard in a while. His face grew gentle, as it always did; his personality switching on and off like lights.

"I'm sorry. But…" a glint appeared in is eye. "One favour before you go?"

"What?" Katie turned her back to him and shoved on her black stilettos.

"A quickie?"

"What?! Urgh," she stood up and strutted out the flat.

He probably had abused all his other girlfriends, the fucking woman beater, but he couldn't touch Katie. She was untouchable and she had made herself that way. Throwing her hips into a desperate, embarrassing swing, she smiled naughtily at nearly every man on the street. This just gave her strange stares. Fine then – there must be some lesbians around here, Katie thought to herself. She started smiling at the women too. Soon a gap in the pathway had formed for the pitiful slag to walk through, Katie's very own catwalk. As she smiled at everyone in a seductive fashion, she began laughing. It's funny how no one will love me. Look at their faces, but they should try showing off once in a while. A bit of skin never hurt anyone.

"I wouldn't pay ten p for that slut," the words pierced through her fragile skin, crushing her vital organs but as long as the makeup and clothes were still there she'd be ok.

"Is she ok?" a teenager asked her friend, a worried look on her face.

You're not ok, Katie, but you don't deserve to be ok. Didn't even get any qualifications worth getting. Failing all your A levels.

She thrust her hips farther to each side and contemplated hitching up her dress.

Why are you doing this? What are you going to achieve? A new voice crept into her mind and lay down like a dog, unwilling to move until it was heard. Why don't you just do something with your life?

Because you don't deserve to, because you're weak and unwilling and could never match up to Emily. Emily travelled the world in one year, helped children in rural places, saw the world, lived…what have you done? Nothing. Working as a waitress, working in a food store, disappointing your parents. You even failed at football. Lost all your competitiveness. And why?

You know why.

The memories flooded back to Katie as she tried to clean them away, wipe the stupid slate clean like she had always been trying to do. A crack shot through the air. Her heel broke and she tripped, crashing to the floor. Cries of pain filled the street, quickly turning to cries of anguish, her attempts at trying to push away the film screen that had developed in her mind. That night, that night she felt sorry for JJ so took him to the gig…and her life had been going perfectly, she was finally fixing her broken self esteem…

"I'm nothing, I'm – I'm – I wish I could disappear, so pathetic!" she started crying rather loudly to herself. People shifted around her, shaking their heads in shame – the mental-breakdown-woman who needed to just stand up and walk on like the rest of the world, swallowing every problem, sucking it all up. A couple walked up to Katie, the woman yards ahead of the man, and both bent over in awe.

"You really should just ask that voice why it thinks you're pathetic," Effy said. Wait – Effy? Katie looked up and squinted at the harsh sun's glare. It was Effy, she could see the outline of brown hair next to…Freddie! His tall, muscled stature, his tanned, beautiful skin and his mop of dark hair…he hadn't even changed. Oh gosh Freddie, how Katie had missed him – but he was with Effy. And Effy had said something about voices…Effy had never made sense so why did Katie expect her to now?

"What? Fuck off loser, I didn't say anything," standing up, she banged shoulders with her as she marched passed but the desired effect evaporated against the iron shoulder blades of Effy. She was forced to stop, their shoulders still touching. Effy bent down to Katie's ear.

"Because that voice has never given you a reason, has it?" Effy whispered. Don't you dare look down on me, Katie thought. You're just as fucked up as I am. "The reason you're pathetic is because you let yourself be."

Turning slowly to watch Effy's back as she linked arms with Freddie and disappeared down the dark lonely path, Katie tried to ignore the stream of tears flooding her cheeks.