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Release.I was in the only room where I could be myself, the only room where I could let out the constant pain within me, the only room where I could breathe. My bedroom.

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Introduction

King-Wey Hii 10 Bonington Monday, 7th July, 2003 English GCSE Coursework Creative Writing Release I was in the only room where I could be myself, the only room where I could let out the constant pain within me, the only room where I could breathe. My bedroom. As I sat there in the middle of the room on the sun warmed pine floor, I gazed out the window at the handsome autumn colours of beige, mahogany and ochre. The scene was seemingly 'perfect' but there was something inside of me which I dared not speak about. I dreaded the mere thought of it, but it still managed to flood my mind every second and dominate my every thought. Even though my hate for them came from deep within my heart, a single thought of them managed to gain power over my actions and influence me in every way. Everyday I reached my absolute limit determined not to let this happen, but its power was inescapable. The clock alarm went off at twenty past seven. It was another day and I had to face everything again. ...read more.

Middle

Then again, it didn't make a difference whether they chose to believe it or not, on the other hand, I had to believe it whether I wanted to or not. When my mother collected me I had to put on an act. Inside I felt abused and stripped of my dignity, but on the outside, in front of my mother, I acted calm and wore a face that said, "I had a fantastic day, and everything is just fine." Usually, just as almost everyone my age would, I would drop my school bags and sit down in front of the television to watch my favourite programmes that all my friends also watched. The next day would then consist a little of conversation including questions like, "Did you watch it?", "Did you see that bit?" and "I wonder what's going to happen next." Nowadays however, I would go straight to my bedroom, take a glance at my worn out face in the mirror and immediately burst out crying. When that happened, I would sit in the middle of my bedroom, salty tears flowing down my face, trying to keep my weeps in, building up a lump at the back of my throat which almost choked me. ...read more.

Conclusion

Now that I look back, I don't blame myself for feeling the way I did, but I do blame myself for dealing with everything the way I did. It makes me sick to think that if I had just stepped out of that fume filled car, I could have stepped right back onto the road which would have led me to sort my life out. Why hadn't I remembered what my grandmother had always told me? "When you think that there is nothing worse than what you are going through, just remember that it can only get better. And one day, it will all be over, just hold on." she would tell me. I yearn for another chance to hold on and to realise that every experience, good or bad, shapes you, and can make you a stronger and better person. I think I lacked two things - the patience and someone to tell me to hold on no matter what others may think. That one person could have changed everything, but I guess I wasn't lucky enough. I would now give anything to be that person for someone else. If I could have that opportunity I would seize it, I only wish others could take that advantage that they have over me. ...read more.

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