Meet Frankie Newbold. At seventeen she has never had a real life, she has never had any real friends her own age.
Her father left with another woman, when she was still in the womb. Her mother died at childbirth, leaving her in the cusody of her aunt and kind husband.
I have never been an adventurous person – quite the opposite in fact. I was the ghostly girl in the corner, the girl that rarely spoke, especially about home. I was the loner; the girl other kids ignored and called names.
I was the one always watching other children have their little adventures in the small playground, and bigger ones later in their lives. My life was like a hall of mirrors, never knowing the difference between reality and fiction.
I always read, the books transported me away to a new life, a life where no bad things happened, where princes always came to find their princesses. Where people always, no matter what had the happy ending they deserved.
My mother died when I was a baby, my father never wanted anything to do with me, even from the womb. My Auntie Rose told me that my mother was only fifteen when I was born, whereas my father was eighteen.
'He wanted 'er for one thing, and only thing only. Sex. Once he got 'er up the duff, that was it. Bye bye, don't bother mailing me, I don't want any contact with you.' Is what she always said.
Auntie Rose was twenty years old herself, with a little boy - who hates me by the way - called Rob.
I apparently look a lot like my mother, long staight white blonde hair, violet eyes, small features, average height, skinny and I apparently have that look in my eye that says, 'leave me alone.'
The only reason why Auntie Rose lets me live here still is because of the fact I look so much like her little sister. Other than that, she treats me like a slave.
Sure, she loved my mother till her death, but she loathes my birth father. He's the reason why she's dead and I'm alive. The only person who is at all a bit nice to me is my Uncle David.
He's ten years older than Auntie Rose, he has those deep set laughter lines around his kind eyes. His dark hair is turning grey in random places, he has one of those moustaces like Samity Sam from Loony Toons. He is the closest thing to a friend, usually always sticking up for me when Auntie Rose or Rob ganged up on me or bullied me.
I wish constantly at night, when I'm in my celler, that I can run away. That I can finally have my happy ending. I fall asleep with that dream in my head, and wake up, with the pessimistic voice in my head telling me otherwise.
Never going to happen.