Hi. I'm Leah, pronounced 'Lee'. I'm not really called Leah, I'm called Leahnikina, pronounced 'Lee-nick-ih-nah'. I hate that name, so everyone calls me Leah. AND SO DO YOU. Trust me, I'm a nice person, except when people get on the wrong side of me. So don't. Anyway, I'm not here to rant on about why you should call me Leah, I'm here to tell you my story...
A long time ago...
No, that's a rubbish beginning.
A few years ago...
Yeah, that's much better, anyway...
A few years ago I was in some run down shack in the middle of who-knows-where, I was starving and had no proper clothes. I was a scullery maid, only, the people who hired me weren't too well off themselves. So around there's where the story starts.
"Michael!!! Michael!!!" I yelled over the rain. "Michael, where are you!?!?" I pulled my thin, ragged scarf around me tighter. I battled the wind as it lashed rain against my face like knives. "Micha- !"
"Ahh! Michael, do not do that to me again, do you hear?" I said, holding him up against a tree.
"Sorry! I won't do it again! I promise!" he begged me. I let him go, he was only eleven. I was fourteen.
"Sorry, I'm just a bit paranoid. I hate storms" I told him kindly.
"Then why did you come out in one?"
"To look for you, idiot"
"I wouldn't have got hurt" he told me. Why did Michael always have to push me to the near limit?
"Don't push it" I told him as calmly as I could.
"Why not? You wouldn't really hurt me." Limit reached.
"Michael! Shut up! You don't know what I would do! As much as I wouldn't want to Michael, I would hurt you! I can't help it! So just do yourself a favour and DO NOT push me any further!" I yelled at him. Then I started to cry. I didn't like the fact that I couldn't control myself. I hated it. But there was always someone to push me too far. I hid my face in my knees.
"It's OK. Just try not to push me" I told him. I heard someone come up to us.
"What's up with her?" they asked.
"Limit reached" Michael told them