• Pain and suffering, and a split family. A summary of my life. Though I, I can't say i'm unhappy, i probarly am, but I just don't want to admit it at all. I go to college, but do not think that i'm old, i'm there from that. I'm seventeen. In england, you can go to college at the age of sixteen. I have a slight suicidal problem, as i have many problems at home, down to a abusive step mother.

    But that is not the reason on why i'm writing my story, oh no it's far from that. In fact, I really have no idea on why I write this story to total strangers that could stalk me into submission. But why do I continue to write my story while listening to the soft tones of Hallelujah but Jeff Buckley from his album Grace? Does that mean I have a problem? How am i meant to know anymore.... Does time really tell when things get better? I guess it doesn't, but no harm within asking right?

    Maybe I should get on with my story now before you all get bored and leave. I am sorry for taking up time that could have filled something else in your lifes, but at least your interested.

    It all started, when I was in the college libary as always, debating with myself if i wanted to go home to father and my step mother. Though i would rather not, but it's one of those unaviodable evils I guess. Feeling a gentle tap upon my shoulder, I turned my head to face my friend. He was standing there like normal, his arms crossed and had a slight glare on his face, I often wondered that if he smiled, his face would crack.
    "What are you still doing here, Banafrit? Gillingham will get dark soon, and it will be dangerous." He said, the words leaving his lips with him pronoucing every word proparly that left them. His green eye's, still giving off a slight glare that would make any other person shiver under fear of him suddenly lashing out.
    "I know that, James. But I was debating with myself." I said to him as I started to pack my shoulder bag, with the logo of Slayer on the front flap, everything else was black on the bag. It had several areas where you could see that had been repaired.

    James shook his head, his brown hair falling over his green eyes slightly as he helped me get the rest of my stuff. To be honest, he was one of the nicest guys i've ever met, even if his posture doesn't show that. I know it's true though. There have been a number of ocassions where his gotten me out of my house before my step mother could do anything to me that I know show wouldn't regret later.

    The packing of my college bag didn't take that long thanks to James' help. I often wondered if he had anything to worry about in his life, but his problems are probarly laid deep, which is why he keeps his glare. A constate reminder of what is wrong in his life. Walking out of the warm, college libary, into the cold air of the outside. I turned the volume on my mobile up, that way if my father rang i would here it. I tend to not hear things when I was with someone, it was a me thing. The snow on the ground made the college look soft, and gentle, almost welcoming, but the tutors weren't, and shooed us away to go home.

    Walking away quickly from the once warm and welcoming college, we had come to the bus stop. A bus was needed to get home from Horsted college, as we lived in Gillingham. The bus would stop at the Black lion once we got to Gillingham, and it was at least a half an hour drive by the bus, which didn't bother me all to much. That meant the less time with my hateful step mother whom I wish I never knew, but we can't wish for anything now can we?

    Crossing the road to get to the bus stop we reached the bus shelter. The bottom of my trousers, becoming soggy from walking in the snow, my converse however kept my feet warm. The same thing had happened to James jeans, but he didn't seem to care, he just blew into his hands at certain times to keep his hands warm, and rubbed them together.
    "It's not coming for another fifthteen minutes." I had said to James, looking at the bus schedual board that was stuck up on the brick of the bus shelter. James nodded his head, acknowldging that he had heard me, and that I wouldn't need to repeat myself.

    Walking back over to James, I could see the sun had set, and been replaced with the moon. Many of the night classes students begun to walk out and towards the bus stop on this side of the road, and the side of the road leading into Maidstone. Or some walking home as they didn't live that far from the college. I sighed, the gang that worshipped James would be coming over here soon to talk to him, and I, I will be shunned to the side. Left to entatian myself once again as I have done for several years.

    You wouldn't think that it would bother me now, but you are very wrong. It bothers me a lot. Yet I do not know why, maybe it was because i'm a jealous person, who knew though, if not even myself knew.

    The gang started to come into view making me sigh again slightly. I started to walk away from James until I felt his palm againest my wrist, his long skinny fingers were collied around my wrist as well, stopping me from walking on. I looked at him, an eyebrow raised.
    "Stay. You'll make more friends that way if i'm not around. I might not be around for long anyway, so this is a good apatunerty for you to make friends." James had said to me. Might not be around for long? what did he mean? Is he moving, or worst..... I don't want to think of the worst, I would rather that thought left my head.

    Reaching us, the gang had come. James still had a light grasp around my wrist, like a father who doesn't want his child to suddenly run off to the local park. But as if i would ever run.
    "Hey James. Who's this?" One of the gang members had asked him as the bus started to pull up. A nice warm bus with any luck. Me going on about warmth makes it sound as if my home is deprived of it, but I can essure you, it's not.
    "This is Banafrit Fodoke. A friend, a GOOD friend of mine." James had said to them, empathising on the word good.

    Showing the bus driver our tickets, we headed up the stairs to sit at the top in the back. It was empty, then again most people took their cars, taxis or bikes to get home or to work, not the bus. But what James had said about not being around for much longer. I couldn't get that thought out of my head. I hoped that it only meant that he was moving, and that we would still keep in contact, I don't hope it's my other thought. Sitting at a window seat, the boys joked and laughed. James stayed quiet as they did and sat next to me. I leaned my head againest the cold panel of the window, water resadue was covering the window, making my light brown hair slightly soggy from leaning on it.

    "What's the matter?" James had asked beside me. I removed my head from the window to look at him and shook my head, replacing my frown with a fake smile, hoping he wouldn't be able to tell.
    "Nothing, really." I had said to him, though I wish i could tell him everything, the most recent bother to me. But he would probarly laugh, making me embarrassed and wish that I was dead from the embarrassement. His eyes lightened slightly, no longer glaring the hard, cold glare that they were in. He could tell I was lying, I knew he could. So why did I say, 'nothing really'?

    "You're lieing. Tell me, what is wrong." James had said to me, in a whisper so only me and him could hear.
    "What did you mean, by you not being around for much longer?" I had asked him, hoping that he would tell me the answer, so i could put my thoughts to rest and not think about it at home when I could be doing better things. He sighed, and leaned back slightly, but also looking down.
    "I do not wish to bother you with something like that. Please forgive me when I tell you that I can not say." James said to me as I frowned at this, and looked at him sadly. He could see it my eyes that I was hurt.
    "That's ok. I understand." I said to him in a whisper back as the bus pulled into the Chatham bus depo.

    James' gang had begun to get off, waving their good byes at James and me before getting off the bus normally like normal people. I wondered what life at their home was like, is it any better then mine, or worst? I didn't know, but I wasn't sure if i wanted to know. Not with that thought on my mind. How could he say that I must beleive him when he says that he can not tell me. Am I not that important? I will never know.