At first, I only noticed her slight mood changes and thought nothing of it; after all, her heart had been broken. By my brother, Leon. For sending her the way she went, I could never forgive him. Inside our house tension was layered on every object and in every set of angry, menacing eyes. Our parents did everything they could to get out of the house and away from our bitterness with each other. Not that we stayed inside for long, Leon went up to the skatepark or down the town with his mates (no doubt to wallow in their own male interests, Hannah forgotten) and I went walking; any where and every where.
At school, Hannah would create intricate torture plans for my brother, which I naively went along with, not fully undserstanding what it meant and what would happen because of it. We would have a few giggles, shove it in her planner and carry on without every thinking about it again; at least I didn't.
Over time she became obsessed with these images, constantly joking about bringing poison into school to lace onto some paper which I would give to Leon. Still, I stayed safe in my little bubble thinking the world of my best friend and that she was normal.