Hand in hand.
Walking down the pathway.
Talking.
Laughing.
Smiling.
We stop.
You turn to face me.
Your eyes meet mine.
You lean in.
You close your eyes.
I close mine.
My stomach spins.
My heart beats rapidly.
Your lips touch mine ever so gently.
I feel as if i am floating.
I feel free.
I feel loved.
It's perfect.
It's flawless.
It's a first kiss.

Why would you waste your time with a girl like me?
I am not good enough and i never will be.
I'm not pretty like the other girls.
I'm not intelligent like the other girls.
I'm not as skinny as the other girls.

I'm insecure.
No self-esteem whatsoever.
No confidence.
Fat.
Ugly.
Worthless.
Hopeless.
So why did you pick me?

The boy sits in the back of the school bus.
A seat infront of him is a girl.
Brown hair, blue eyes and freckles across her face.
He admires her beauty and watches her as she laughs and talks with her friends.
He notices something.
When her friend stops talking to her, she looks out the window and her smile turns into sadness.
She looks miserable.
Hurt.
The boy says nothing.

The next day, the boy sits at the same place behind the girl.
She's on her own and she has the same look on her face.
The boy longs to talk to her but something holds him back.
He notices something else.
As the girl reaches to get something out her bag, her top rolled up and the boy saw red marks.
Long lines across her wrist.
Bright red and raw.
She rolls her sleeves down as her friend sits next to her and she begins to smile.
The boy knows that it is not honest or genuine but again he says nothing.

The next day, the boy sits at the same place but the girl is nowhere to be seen.
The boy begins to worry but realizes that she may just be ill or something must have come up so he says nothing.

Days turn into weeks and the girl still hasn't been or the bus or to school.
His mind races a million miles an hour and it begins to fill with horrific thoughts but he pushes them aside and keeps to himself.
The boy again says nothing.

At school, there is an assembly.
The assembly is focusing on a girl.
A girl who commited suicide.
A girl who is of the same age as the boy.
Her picture is revealed and the boy bursts into tears.
It was the beautiful brown haired ******* the bus.
If he would've spoken to her then maybe just maybe, she would still be alive today.
He wished that he would have said something instead of nothing.

Worried, scared and alone.
She closes her bedroom door and breaks into tears.
She feels useless.
She feels worthless.
She feels like she's a waste of space.
She has no friends.
Only enemies.
She screams so loud but no-one can hear her.
She feels as if she's been trapped at the bottom of a well and she's crying out for help, but no-one can hear her.
No-one cares.
The demons scream so loud in her head.
Getting louder and louder.
Her head begins to feel with eerie thoughts.
Dark thoughts.
Disturbing thoughts.
All the pain is bottled inside her, urging to be poured out.
The only way that she can open up and relieve the pain is to paint.
She uses her body as her canvas and begins to paint away without no care at all.
Slowly but surely, the pain begins to ooze away.
The red paint from her brush drips onto the floor, forming a pattern.
Her canvas is soon covered but she still feels unsatisfied.
She goes over some of her previous paintings, creating different shapes and patterns.
She paints until she is satisfied.
She crawls onto her bed and snuggles up with her teddy bear.
Her mum calls from downstairs, asking if she is alright.
She replies with a tearful 'fine', even though deep down inside she knows that she isn't.
This girl wants help.
This girl needs help.