Sophie continued life, walking straight into hurt. None of the kids in the childrens' home knew about Louisa. They just pictured Sophie as one of them. She was far from a rowdy teenager. Quiet and small, she never put a foot over the line.
After years of being home tutored, the social workers decided Sophie was to go into mainstream education - school. Sophie was scared, but did not show it on the outside. Social workers thought she was confident, when she was far from it.
That Monday morning in the cold September, Sophie brushed her layers out and slipped into the school uniform. It was ruffed and had bits of thread hanging out of it, but it fitted Sophie and that was all that mattered. She entered the school, and again, struggled to fit in.
Months later, they had started causing trouble at school. But nobody heard Sophie's cries every time she got kicked, or punched, or slapped. Nobody knew what was going on. Nobody wanted to be her friend. She was lonely and her self-esteem had hit a low.
Sophie grew up getting beaten every day. On her fifteenth birthday, enough was enough. It had to end. She couldn't be hurt every day of her life.
But to her, she had no choice. So she did it.
Tying the rope carefully, she slipped it round her neck. She had wrote a letter to her other sister, Mae, who was six years old. Sophie wanted her to read it when she got older. It stated:
By the time you read this, I will be long gone. You probably won't have any memories of me. I know you have lost two sisters. But we both love you very much, I promise. If you ever need help, tell someone. If you ever are hurt, tell someone. Don't end up like I have. I love you, little Mae.
Love from Sophie.
I'll never forget you, never forget me. x
A few minutes after she had put the pen down, she was dead.