´óÏó´«Ã½

So, this is the future. Nothing like it is in cartoons. Where's the flying cars and the robots? All there is is the same old stuff from 10 years ago, when I was only 13. . . .

Thats when it all happened. The crash. Not your usual crash, like a bike or car crash. But Me. My body, the whole of me crashed and broke down.

I guess your wandering what happened to me. How I "broke down". Well, you need to know the key facts I guess. When I was 12 I used to do some of my GCSE's early. I was doing my english and drama. One of the boys in drama was reeaallly cute. I loved him. . . .When I say love, I mean love. And he used to love me. I admit there was a big age difference, but I didnt think it would end so terribly. His name was Chris, 15 years old. His black hair hung loosley over his shoulders, his fringe would fall in his eyes and as he pushed it out the way. . . .the smile he would give me was heartmelting. When we first kissed, I can remember the way that hair brushed against my cheeks. You need a proper image of Chris, I threw all those pictures of him away when I first woke up. So let me explain. . . .

He was tall and very skinny. He would come into school with black skinny jeans, black wincklepickers and a school shirt, untucked. The way the jeans clung to his slim legs was fabulous. He had a gorgeous face, deep cheekbones and big, beautiful, grey eyes. He wore eyeliner and mascara. . . .he would use all my make-up! But, now when I think about him. . .I feel sickened.

We started going out on the day after my 12th, when he had literally just turned 15 a few weeks before. He was so romantic at first. In the gcse drama lessons he would always save me seat, even before we were going out. If any of the boys were cruel to me he would stick up for me. Oh, I loved him alright. But did he really love me? Obviously not.

My 13th birthday. I brought a GORGEOUS dress. It was knee-length, black and slightly tight fitting. I thought Chris would like it, because he would look at the other girls when we were out in town. And they wore dresses like that. But he hated me wearing it. Me and him went out for a meal at a spanish restaurant. He arrived before me and as soon as I walked through the door, the smile in his face fell into a angry frown.

"Chris, whats the matter?"

"What are you wearing?"

"That dress you saw in Primark, the one you said was sexy. I thought you might. . ."

"You thought wrong. You look like a slag. Now sit down and put my coat on. Ive already ordered our meal."

"Okay Chris. . .Sorry. I love you."

"I love you too."

But he said it blankly, without any feeling. Thats when I knew the trouble was going to start. He started looking through my phone whenever we met.

"Who's Paul?"

"My cousin, he wanted to know if I was going to my aunts wedding." I called from the bathroom.

"Your spending a long time in the bathroom, whats going on?"

"Nothing! Just sorting my hair." I said, quickly washing that mornings make-up away.

"It doesnt take that long, I'm coming in." And he pushed the door open.

"You're wearing make-up? You know what I told you. Eyeliner is fine. But FOUNDATION? You are a SLUT! I knew it."

I felt his warm hand crash against my cheek.

I know what youre thinking. I shouldve left him. . .but I was to scared. If he was hitting me now, what would he do if I told him I didnt love him. But, I told myself that I still loved him and that he was doing what he did to help me. I stuck by that. All the times he hit me I would smile and apologise and tell him I loved him.

"Good. I know you love me." He would smirk, and kiss me.

You all think I'm too young. But he made me feel older, and I wasn't that young. 13 isnt to bad. But anyway, he would hit me if I so much as smiled at one of the boys in drama or english.

"I saw you talking to Ed this morning. What were you talking about?" He said after school one Monday when we were back at his. See, his parents were usually out at work so we spent most of our time at his place.

Then it got worse. Once, after asking a strange man on the street for directions when we were walking to a restaurant, he dragged me back to his and threw me against the wall.

"Who was he!?" He shouted, holding me up against the wall.

"I dont know! I was just asking for directions! I'm sorry! Please, dont hit me!" I stammered.

He pushed me to the floor, threatening that if I spoke to anyone that he didnt know or like, that he would smash my face through a window.

So I stopped talking to everyone, friends, family and teachers. I even left school. The pressure of early GCSE's and other exams was to hard. So I stayed at his place. Spending my days in his bedroom. Cleaning, writing stories, drawing pictures. I was Trapped.

Then, one day, about a week before my 14th birthday. . .he asked me for somthing.

"You want to h-h-have sex? I havent, I cant. . .I mean. . ."

"You mean what? You scared? I know, I know. We've only snogged before. But it would make me happy. And I mean, you do WANT to make ME happy. . .Right?" He threatened.

So I went through with it. Terrified as I was, I did it so he wouldnt hurt me.

3 days later, I plucked up the courage to sneek out while Chris was at school and go to a friends house. While I was there, I did a pregnancy test.

Positive.

I was shaking with terror. That night, when Chris got back, I told him.

"YOU WHAT!? PREGNANT!?"

"Sorry Chris. I love you."

"SORRY ISNT ENOUGH! I'M TO YOUNG TO BE A FATHER! YOU B*TCH!"

And thats when I crashed.

"THATS ENOUGH CHRIS! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU! ALL YOU EVER DO IS SHOUT AT ME AND HIT ME! THIS ISNT FAIR! I NEVER DO ANYTHING WRONG! AND NOW, JUST BECAUSE YOU DIDNT PUT A F*CKING CONDOM ON, I GET BLAMED FOR BEING PREGNANT! JUST F*CK OFF! I HATE YOU"

He stood there for a moment, shocked. I stood there facing him, breathing heavily, fists clutched tight by my side. Then he came over the shock, and punched me. Hard in the face.

The punch came like a missile. Fast, furious. I fell back, cracking my head on the corner of his bedside drawers. Blood stained his carpet.

I dont remember anything after that. I was in a coma. For 10 Whole Years. I woke up, 2 days ago. Remembered what Chris had done to me as soon as my eyes opened. The nurses ran in after hearing me scream and calmed me down.

"Is Chris here? Dont let him near me! PLEASE!"

"Chris? The man who brought you here? No, he was put in prison for puching you. It's all okay."

"Please, get that picture of him away from me. Burn it."

So yeah, now, 2 days later I am in this very same hospital bed that I have been for 10 years. I've spent 2 days thinking about the past. But now it's time to think of the future.

I was looking out of the window earlier. So, this is the future. Nothing like it is in cartoons. Where's the flying cars and the robots? All there is is the same old stuff from 10 years ago, when I was only 13. . . .