Later on Saturday 18th September
I am sitting at a bus stop at 10:30 at night in the middle of town. Well, I could be in the middle of town, but I don't know. When I left, I just walked and walked until I really needed a rest. I walked in a direction that I didn't know, took a route I had never seen before and I have no idea where I am.
I looked up inquiringly as the hourly night bus wizzed past. The driver looked at me as if I had just shot someone as she drove. I couldn't believe this!
My stomach is dying for food! I am going to reach into my bag and get out another slice of pizza and my flask. I am so glad that I came prepared. I don't think mum will mind me 'borrowing' her debit card. If it keeps me alive and full, then I can live with that.
Once more I delve into the bag, only this time when my hand comes out, I have my blanket. I bring up my legs and huddle against the corner of shelter. I can feel the air getting colder and colder, so I wrap myself up in the blanket and pull my hat down over my eyes and nose. The pattern of the cold, retracting metal seat imprints itself upon my legs and back. I want to retreat further into my blanket and into the small warmth and comfort that I have while I am here.
I wonder how my mum is feeling right now. How she's coping. I do think it's unfair leaving her without a word or proper explanation. I mean, how was she to know I felt like a piece of rubbish? She is just like all the teachers - blind and deaf.
I suppose that if this story were to become famous, then they would have to believe it. They would get the real culprits and the slimy, stupid snakes would have to admit that they were wrong and get put into a detention centre and worse - but that won't happen. At least a girl can dream.
The one thing that neither they, nor anyone else will ever take away from me is my love for music and singing. I am going to stop writing in a minute, but I think to get to sleep I will have to either cry or sing. I know which one I prefer though.