Bella woke up, it was the end of the summer holidays and today, she had to start all over again. Well, with the workload anyway. It might not be a brand new year, but it sure felt like Bella was a year older.

Bella skulked into her classroom, her chestnut hair swaying in its ponytail as she walked. It certainly gave true meaning to the term 'ponytail'. Long, wavy and thin, Bella's hair was enough for her to hide any sort of emotion. Her fringe covered her forehead and her left eye, pretty much. Everyone at school classed her as 'emo', putting her under the stereotype that expects her to sit at home all night and listen to depressing music. If only they knew the truth.

She chose a seat in the corner of the room, as far away from everyone as she could be. Bella didn't want to talk to anybody, she didn't even want to see anybody. She wasn't in college to make friends, she was there to learn, but of course, no tutor is ever prepared on the first day back at college. Who knew if the tutor would even turn up? As she lowered herself into her seat, her black skinny jeans slid down her hips slightly, revealing a bright blue line of elastic. And a patch of deep, purple scars. Realising, Bella quickly tugged her hoodie down to cover them up. She tried to lean back into her chair and relax but noticed that the scars were still on show. Reluctantly, she hunched forward, making sure that the hoodie covered up every last scar.

Well, nobody wants to be the centre of everybody's gossip on the first day back.

Bella listened to everyone around her in the classroom. Mainly girls. The occasional boy. As she looked around the classroom, she realised that there were three boys in the class, and two of them were in a relationship with each other. The other had admitted at the beginning of the first year, that he was "only here for the girls". But not a lot of boys from her area were interested in Art, Design and Media. Why would they be? The only "art" they would be interested in, is seeing how many times they could shoot their sperm at a wall. Bella drifted back slowly into reality. Everyone was chatting about some mindless banter that nobody really cared for, when it all boiled down to it. Bella looked at the clock. Five minutes down, the rest of her life to go.

She looked around before sneakily plugging in her headphones. The tutor still wasn't there. Either there would be a substitute from Mechanics or there just wouldn't be a tutor. Great news, what a wasted day. Pulling her iPod out underneath the table, she ran her thumb around the circle until she found that one specific band, that one specific album, that one.. specific.. song.

Pressing 'Play', Bella waited for the bass to kick in and the lyrics to pound into her ears. She let the world drown out around her, as she brought a curled up fist to her chin and leant on it, a tear filled with mascara running down her cheek as she let the music whisk her away from reality.

- Thanks to you, I'm moving on. Chasing out my skeletons, and the troubles they have caused. And all thanks to you, I'm turning over the pages in this book of revelations about self-medication. -