The late bell goes, the sound of laughter and excited children fill the corridors. Dusty sits there with her head in her hands wondering want to do with herself. She can feel people staring at her, it felt awkward but she like the attention. It was one thing she craved, she was always the one that had to have someones attention but today she didn't like it so much. Then she felt a cold presence behind her, she turned around as a large hand touched her shoulder. "Dusty, come with me" the sound of shock waved through her form room. Mr Stanley was a tall, 50 year old man with a miserable looking face. She got to the door of his office and stopped, her feet froze. " Go in, I don't bite" he said pointing to the door. She would have normally laughed but in the circumstance she didn't find it very funny. 'What happened last night?' the terrifying thought kept washing around in her head. Mr Stanley asked the same question, " Dusty? Are you okay?" she looked up and saw the concern on his face. She shrugged. The words were right on the tip of her tongue. If only she could tell, but that's the thing she got in trouble in the first place. " if something was wrong, you would tell some one , wouldn't you?" Mr Stanley leaned forward, she looked to the door and shrugged. Chants were heard on the bus " Its Friday! Friday! Gotta get down on Friday!!!" Dusty rolled her eyes and pulled her hood up to cover the bruised emotions coming from her face. She finally got home. it was a cold Friday night and unlike most 15 year old girls, she was sitting indoors. She got to the front door and her heart dropped , the bolt on the door has been broken. The door was wide open and windows were smashed. Dusty dropped her bag and coat at the front door and ran up stairs. Duvets ripped and a message was written on her wall in red "This is not over dusty!". She fell to the floor. were could she go? Once again, crouched on the floor, bruised and terrified. She stood up, wiped the tears off her face and got her purple rucksack and filled it with clothes. She couldn't stay there anymore, just like her mother, she would have to leave- for good.