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Original Writing - Why Me!

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Introduction

26/9/09 Why Me? Why did it have to be me? What did I ever do? I wonder if it was how I came into this world losing my precious mother in the process. How I lied about liking my one and only birthday present - My father. How I covered up all the pain and the bruises caused by his very hands, or how I scared away any boy that was strange enough to give me a second look. What I am certain about though, it really doesn't help that I blame god for all the unfortunate things in my life. So, as I am here, back in the bad luck, sitting in a drafty doorway with my protruding bones sticking out beneath my goose bumped skin, digging into the hard, gritty concrete creating bruise upon bruise. The question that plays a loop in my head like a broken record is... Why me? I can feel it. I can feel the change in me starting to happen. I have become this person that I hardly even recognise. Super thin 16 year old Hayley, alone in the ignorance of London, with my pride decreasing after every kid that cowers away to the safety of their mother's smooth, warm hands. Then there's me, reflecting their actions. As they return to their safety, I return to mine, sinking my head right into my chest with the tears dripping from the tip of my nose, huddling my knees in so tight, feeling miniscule in myself, but also as if holding onto something is keeping me from breaking into tiny shards of the real me. She is the girl that has all this love bound up so tightly in her chest just waiting for that perfect person to slowly unravel beneath all the tragedy and deep into the love that she has to give. Well! I don't see that happening to me anytime soon, do you? ...read more.

Middle

"I will explain. Since I saw you that night, your very first night on streets - I mean, me, being the gentleman I am, have been keeping an eye out for you because I know how hard the streets can be. To hear the aggressive abuse, to feel the physical pain of your bones seizing up and your cold skin covered with bruises, to feel as small and insignificant as could possibly be and to have the aching of your heart leave you breathless. I know all this because...it was me. Well, it is me. Overtime I have just made some useful friends and found some useful places to make it all a lot easier. With you though, I feel very protective. I feel like I have to be in your life somehow. I have got to be that something you can hold onto to stop yourself from breaking. So this morning, when I was doing my usual check up on and you were knocked down, I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't watch you go through anymore. I have to be here for you." Dylan, throughout opening up to me, kept his hand on my cheek, tracing patterns around the hollow bags of my confused and tired eyes, not taking his eyes off me once. What do I say to that? That is exactly how I feel about him, but this is just so sudden. I have only just met Dylan and I know I have no reason to feel like this. "Dylan... I ..," that's all I managed to utter when Dylan suddenly cut in. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I have completely freaked you out now. I'm sorry Hayley," Dylan said in shame, dropping his hand and head, closing all contact. The tables had turned and I found myself comforting him. Inching my hand into his closed palm and tilting his head up to look at me. ...read more.

Conclusion

Behind me, I knew that there where police officers waiting to take me away from the hold of Dylan and break my heart, but this very second there was nothing else in the world that could have mattered to me. No thoughts of mine could ruin this moment. With a kiss that took my breath away, before I returned the affection, the officers yanked me from the love of Dylan, with the whisper of 'I love you too' trailing off into the distance as I was dragged into the door of their police car. "Hayley!!! What do I do now? What do I do without you," cried Dylan, as I watched his heart being torn in two right before me with all his facial features that I love drop into the face of a stranger. "Use the poem Dylan. Use the poem to save us," I shrieked, in hope he would understand what I was saying. Right then, as the door to the police car slammed, I could see him reach into his pocket, pull out my poem book and see his eyes follow the poem that could eventually bring us back together. Why didn't they care for me? My inside they never did see, My heart cries...my body is sore, Paralysing me to the innermost core, The frustration, the misery and the pain, Driving me crazy...turning me insane, Escaping away, do I have what it takes? And finally I accept the things I contemplate, Trying to live, trying to bear, It's too much for me to care, I was never wanted, couldn't retake, I was invisible to the world, I was a mistake. As the car came began to move through the traffic of London, I could see in Dylan's face. He knew what he had to do. He could make the world listen to my words and his voice, giving us both what we deserve. This is our lucky break. He found my once. He saved me. He'll find me again. ...read more.

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