SENIOR SCHOOL Creative Writing A Friend? I’m tough. I’m intimidating. I’m Mina Westbrook. Well, I was. Anyone in my path squirmed, made way for me as I blessed them simply with my presence. Easily, I could snap my fingers and everything was as I wanted it - straight As on my reports (I have my connections), designer brands; it is all in my blood. I just don’t know how; why? Actually, I do. It’s just not me. I look down at my locket, morning and night, its gold details glisten in the sunlight. It is beautiful. Longingly, I gaze into the necklace and forever wonder who, or what, will fill the empty space it bears. The feeling kills me. This feeling of loneliness. Behind the glamour and admirable confidence, is a girl who has nothing; she is poor and worthless as long as she’s alone, forever longing for the one thing money can’t buy. I had to escape. Staring in the mirror, a view of an unfamiliar face stared back at me. Eyes of fear, she stared into my soul. A feeling of anxiety tormented me; it lingered in my veins. I took one last glance at the person I was. This is the end. Now… I run. A wreck. A girl with no hope, but plenty of fear. Running, I wiped the sweat from my brow and continued out of sight, no knowledge of what was to come. I ran, just ran, on and on – further and further away from the life that surrounded me, chained me to its anchor and failed to release me. Every step, further away from this life, was one closer to the life I hungered for. This was the only way. The trees above me grew closer as darkness fell... I stopped, listened; I was alone. I thought. Then suddenly, I came to a halt. “Where am I?” A tear dripping down my cheek made me realise, made everything so clear yet so hard to embrace. “Who am I?” The question echoed in my head, spiralling out of control and soon enough... I’m in the arms of a stranger. A friend? Imogen Wright, Year 9 35
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