chapter 1

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My name is Amelia Pond.

Amy for short.

I'm 15.

Rory and Mels are my best friends. I don't really have anyone else. The other, popular girls, think I'm weird. They think I'm insane. They started rumours last week when I was off ill, and said that I had been put in an asylum. They think I'm weird because I believe. I believe in the doctor.

I don't care how many more therapists my parents throw at me.

I'm still going to bite each one.

I'm still going to believe that the man I love is coming back for me.

One day.

No abuse or weird looks or patronising statements from people at school or teachers or therapists are going to convince me that the man in the blue box is not real.

He has to be real.

I have depression as well, that's why they keep calling me schizophrenic.

You are more likely to have schizophrenia if you are depressed, according to my last counsellor. I've had 9 of those so far. Only 4 therapists though. They're usually the ones that are a bit high headed. They are usually more strict and stubborn, where as counsellors tend to be quote easy to wind up.

I've had depression since I was little really. I guess its become a part of me and I of it. I don't really think my depression is an illness, that can be cured with drugs, or a state of mind, that can be cured with therapy,

Mines more like a demon that controls my life. Its got its own character and name, Mia, and sometimes a voice.

I haven't told them about the voice.

When I was little I heard the demon for the first time. And I prayed to Santa. I thought the demon was one of the voices in my wall. Only it started to walk around with me during the day.

As soon as I prayed to Santa, that's when the blue box appeared!

It cant be a coincidence!

"Santa sent a special kind of doctor to make me better!" I told Rory and Mels the next day. Although I didn't tell them about Mia. Mia said I shouldn't.

Looking back at that time of life I seemed so small. I can remember it like it was yesterday because I replay certain moments of my life in my head before I sleep. If I sleep.

I've become insomniatic.

I can barely make it through a school day without going to sleep. Bit then at night Mia likes to talk. She forces me to listen and I try to put my hands around my readers bit then i realise she's inside me.

Some days i just can't take it.

Some days my brain gives up.

Today was one of those days.

I lay on my bathroom floor. Pills in one hand, blade in the other

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