well the name is quite explanatory dontcha think? so I don't really need to explain it. okay the song I'm listening to is pretty amazing, and the girls some random girl on myspace.
heres a link: [link]
check it outttttt
I'm reading some random book I've read about fifty times before, its pretty awesome though.
ooh, song changed ;D - tik tok by Ke$ha, chavy I know but its good. anyway there was a reason I wrote on here. I haven't been on in absolutely ages and decided, what the hell, lets check da. okay, okay, I lost my other book. hard-drive broke so, thats shit. so I decided to start a new one, so- this is the beginning bit, hope you like it ♥

- katie ♥







“I love you”
Such small words, such a short phrase, but with such big meaning. Just those words, if said by the right person, can make your heart thump faster than a Ferrari at full speed, than an aeroplane taking off, than light itself. Those words, if said by the right person, can be the start of an adventure you can only dream of happening.

Prologue
1. I awoke with the moonlight seeping through the gap of the drapes my mother had got me for my sixteenth birthday, screams filling the air. People had stopped coming in to check on me months ago, they were used to the shrieks of terror that consumed the early hours of the morn. My roommate had taken to wearing earplugs to bed, so that I didn’t wake her when the fear of my nightmares overwhelmed me. She was used to it. I buried my head in my pillow to try and drown out the noise consuming the night air. I’d been in this place for six months now, and I still didn’t feel safe.

Outsiders refer to it as a hospital, but those inside know it for what it really is – a prison. The “carers” don’t actually care about you. They are just there to make sure you eat the right things; go to bed at the correct times; don’t beat each other up. There’s no one professional for you to talk to if you need help, just the other people locked away in the hell-hole. Even at the beginning of my nightmare, no one came to check on me when I awoke screaming. They just left me, terrified; too terrified to even open my eyes. I was brought here because no one understood, they thought I was crazy, they didn’t understand why I was so scared, lonely … broken. That’s what happens when you loose someone: you break. A part of you is gone forever, and there is nothing you can do about it. These people had obviously never loved someone so much you would do anything for them, they obviously had no idea what it was like to need to see someone each day, just the sound of their voice could make all your fear go away. That’s what I needed during the months I’d been here – his voice.

The only thing that was getting me through was the thought that, when I got out and was labelled “safe” and no longer a “hazard to myself and others”, I could be back home in London, away from this prison for which I was to be impounded until I no longer awoke in the middle of the night screaming. “East Gates Centre for the Mentally Impaired”, that’s what they called it. Kind of like a care home for abandoned children, except it’s for people with messed up minds who are said to be a damage to other people.

I’m not a damage to other people; just myself.