I'd like to dedicate this book to my mum, who has helped me non-stop ever since I was born. I quite literally wouldn't be here without her.

Due to the sensitive nature of this book, names, ages, nationalities, first languages and other aspects have been changed to protect people's identities.

Hannah Barlett is not the author's real name.

All dates however, have more or less stayed the same. Most of the events below took place between 2006 and 2014, from when I was 11 to when I was 19. All events below took place in modern Britain.

Speech in this book has not been altered and is mostly the original speech spoken.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Before School: An Introduction

Part One: St James's

Year 7- Trying To Fit In

Year 7- A Firm Group of Friends

Year 7- Obsessions

Year 8- Trouble from the Start

Year 8- A New Obsession

Year 8- Confusion

Year 8- Not Like Everyone Else

Year 8- Trying to Be the Right Friend

Year 8- A Friendship Falling Apart

Year 8- Self Control

Year 8- Goodbye, my friend

Year 8- An End to a Stressful Year

Year 9- Clearing Things Up

Year 9- The Trouble with Year 7s

Year 9- 'I Will Call the Police'

Year 9- A More Distant Obsession

Year 9- A New Set

Year 9- Something to Smile About

Year 9- A New Friend

Year 9- Forgiveness

Year 9- The Trouble with the Internet

Year 9- 'Three Strikes, Then You're Out.'

Year 9- 'Shut Up, or I Will Chuck You out The Window.'

Year 9- The Problem with Mr. Fotopoulos

Year 9- Desperation

Year 9- Things Start To Get Serious

Year 10- Trouble on the First Day

Year 10- More Arguments

Year 10- Moving on

PART TWO: STOCKPORT

Year 10- A New Start

Year 10- Mixed Feelings

Year 10- A New Obsession

Year 10/Year 11- The Trouble with Stockport

Year 10/Year 11- A Battle, Everyday

Year 10/11- Useless Support

Year 11- No Self Control

Year 11 – The Week Beginning 8th March

Year 11- Goodbye, Stockport

Year 11- Stressful Exams

PART THREE: BEYOND SCHOOL

A Young Man

Fun Start Nursery

Dr. Hesketh

The Worst Yet

A Surprise in the Sun

Added Complications

Caught Out

The Aftermath

A Glimmer Of Hope

Update

Before School: An Introduction

For me, it's terribly odd to think there was a life before secondary school, because for me, I can't remember it all, really. I don't really have many memories of primary school and my home life. But you could say I really had a pretty average home life. I was born into a normal family in London, over 19 years ago. My mum stayed at home to look after me and my dad worked for a big awarding body. A company which, he started working at, at 16 and still works there now, aged 53. As I said, very average family- we weren't rich, but weren't poor either. I had quite a steady early life, and moved just outside of London to a nicer town when I was one year old. I also gained a younger sister and a younger brother, once we moved out of London, who were 2 and 4 years younger than me. I really couldn't have lived more than a simple life....

I think my parents didn't think that I was in many ways autistic till I was into my primary school years. My mum however said that I never really smiled as a small child and didn't like physical contact, but I think she put it down to personality. I started the local primary school, not settling in very well. I don't think I liked school from the start, but now Reception and Year 1 seem such simple times. I never really had any friends at school, but I think that no one really thought much of it, as I was still young. I think it was Year 2 when my parents maybe started to think there might be something wrong with me. I think was my teacher was spotting a few signs, and my mums friends son who was in my year had just got tested for autism. When she told my mum what the symptoms were, my mum thought I might have it. But I think the school disagreed mainly. The teacher I went onto in Year 3, refused to believe there was anything wrong with me, which I think slowed down the diagnosing process. To be fair to her, she had probably seen children with Asperger Syndrome or Autism in a much worse state than me. I wasn't really that bad, it was quite mild. Especially as in Year 3, I started to make friends for the first time, what really was wrong with me?

It wasn't till year 4, I think that I got tested for the first time. The teachers I had in Year 4 were a lot more understanding and I think encouraged my mum to get me diagnosed. I had two teachers in Year 4, one for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday and one for Thursday and Friday. Maybe it was the change every week that made my behavior start to deteriorate. I started to become badly behaved- probably half due to the change, but the other half due to the fact that I still felt it a struggle to make friends, especially as in Year 4 I was put into a Year 3 class because of the fact that the teacher I really didn't get on with in year 3 was going to be teaching the year 4 class. And partially because things like my handwriting was messy and I wasn't really as clever as everyone else, at that point. But I think the other half of the reason why I misbehaved was the fact that I noticed that if I was badly behaved- disrupting circle and carpet time as an example, impressed people. The children used to laugh and find me hilarious that I gave the teachers such a hard time. And I think that's when I can confirm that I made a firm group of friends, the only problem being that they were all a year younger. I think I quite enjoyed being naughty- being sent to senior members of staff and even the headmistress was a common occurrence. Although maybe it was a good thing, as I think my attention seeking behavior pushed the diagnosis forward.

I still have a DVD of when I got diagnosed, in Great Ormandy Street Hospital in London in 2004. There were hidden cameras around the hospital (I wasn't told about this) and they were filming for a short film about different people with autism. I think it's called the 'Hidden Face of Autism' or something like that. I watch it sometimes, just to look back really. Although I was obviously autistic, as in the interview I don't think I even looked at the woman at all (Which is a symptom of autism) I seemed quite happy. I happily chatted to the woman about my friends, etc. It is odd though. I was quite autistic back in primary school, in a different way to what I was in secondary school, but I was always happy. I didn't have a clue what was coming.

I had a good end to my primary school years, overall. I gained more and more friends as time went on and by the time I was in my last year at primary school, I was almost popular- having several groups of friends that I shared my time between. It is wired how I went through phases of being really sociable and making friends and at others I was distant and lonely. I was worried about starting secondary school, but I think that because I had a group of friends at primary school, although they were all a year younger and still had another year left I think it was the confidence that I could make friends that didn't get me so nervous about it.

I started secondary school in September 2006. I was going to my local comprehensive, which hadn't got the best reputation in the world. It had a history of bullying and trouble, although apparently, it was turning itself around. It was trying to get permission for a new school to be built, which would apparently resolve all its problems. My dad has always said he was against me going there from the start and wanted to try and get me into the international school about half an hour away, as his mother was German. But my mum was working with the school to try and get the new school built, she was in the paper and everything with her friends, trying to get the new school built. But the quite amusing thing was, her 3 friends in the end sent their children to different schools, even though they had such a "passion" for the school. My mum was all too support our local school and said she knew people that had kids going there, although everyone in her close knit circle of friends who lived as locally as we did, sent their children to schools further afield. I have to admit- it was a bit surprising that the school had such a reputation, we lived in a lovely area, dabbed "posh" by many in less-appealing areas, and apart from the few kids who lived in a bunch of council houses near the school, everyone had quite a bit of cash in their back pocket.

Although the special needs aspect of my education was important, I don't think my parents bothered too much about it, as I didn't seem that badly affected by the autism. I still displayed the symptoms; but they weren't really bad enough to affect me in life. Although we did have some meetings with the special needs department just before I started to familiarize me with the people. But I generally thought I didn't need them and I think they annoyed me a lot. And too be fair, I didn't need them at all to the middle of Year 8.

I don't think me ever though my school years would turn out like they did. Year 7 wasn't that bad, but Year 8,9,10 and 11 all had their stressful moments and I don't think I really went in for a day after Year 7 where something didn't happen. Something happened almost every day. And I thought, before I started school that I wasn't really affected by my autism. But I can tell you, now, that I wouldn't have been able to write a page in this book if I didn't have autism. My school life would be completely different. Every situation, every chapter happened because I had autism.

After reading this you will probably think, 'how does she remember it all?' Apart from having a very good memory, I wrote a detailed diary every day from Year 8 till Year 11. I also have drafted this book many times before, and almost written the situations down as they happened.

After 5 years of broken relationships, obsessions, fighting, arguments, dangerous situations and being misunderstood, this is my story....

PART ONE:

ST JAMES'S

Year 7- Settling In

It was the summer before where it all started. I wasn't exactly confident about starting a new school, as for someone with autism it was so much change and I wasn't exactly enjoying the prospect that I wouldn't have any friends, either. I think my mum, was equally as nervous as I was, if not more so. Although at the time I wasn't that autistic, she still was in check with the special needs department, to help me if I needed it. The support assistants seemed nice enough and they even offered me a place on the 'Summer School' program. I think it was a week at the school and going on trips, to get used to the school, but I think my mum wanted me to go so I could make friends before I started. I, on the other hand, wasn't having any of it. Many children would have jumped to the opportunity, maybe, but not me. I had never done anything like that before and there was nothing that I could think could be worse, than going to school in the summer holidays with people you don't even know. If I look back now, over 8 years later, I think it would have probably benefited me. But at the time, it seemed pointless. I almost went, in the middle of the week I managed to get into the reception of the school. I think my mum had managed to bribe me with food or something. But I remember getting half way through the school before turning back. It was irrelevant really, as I found out afterwards that there was only one other girl there, who I knew anyway and I didn't fancy making friends with boys. So the summer school failed- I think my mum went off on one, saying that I wasn't going to make any friends and there was no one to blame but myself.

Summer school aside, I started St James's in 2006 pretty much alone. I remember the first morning of school so clearly. I think that my mum was still concerned about me starting school so I think she got a support assistant to meet me and take me in on the first day. I don't think I caused any trouble going in, as I knew it was something that I kind of had to do. I think the support assistant tried to help me make friends by introducing random girls that she knew the names of. I remember we went into the big hall, where all the New Year 7's were seated. We hadn't even been split into forms or met our form tutors yet, something which the school seemed to do on the introduction day to the later years. I wasn't in the hall for long I remember, as our form was the first to be taken out. I remember my form tutor being introduced before she read out the list of pupils who were going to be in her new form. I was right in the middle of the list with an M name and got up and joined my new form. My new form tutor, Mrs. Mostert was really nice form tutor to start off with and was generally one of the nicest teachers there, and now I think back she was the perfect form tutor for Year 7's. The first thing I noticed when I got to the school was the fact that everyone seemed to have a friend. Whether they had one, two or three, everyone seemed to have someone. Apart from me.

I think I settled in quite fine. Compared to how I settled into places later in life. But unlike other situations that happened later on in life I think I just got on with it. I even got the 'student of the term' award at the Christmas assembly, as Mrs. Mostert said 'Hannah didn't say a word on her first day and now she has settled in and made friends.' Although I always had praise from my form tutor it was hard to make the big change from primary to secondary, but I think for a child with autism I took it in a stride, as they say. It was quite hard to remember were all the classes were though, so Mrs. Mostert gave me a map to keep in my school planner so I could find myself around the school. I got on with all of the teachers and liked the variety of lessons I was doing. I was introduced to languages for the first time as I didn't do French in primary school. I also enjoyed my old primary school favourites, such as geography and history. The only subjects I didn't overly like were P.E and Maths. I also have Dyspraxia so P.E has always been a struggle and even in primary school all my reports said that I put no effort into P.E. It got worse when we got to secondary school because the other students around me started to realize that I really wasn't very good and the whole team picking was quite humiliating. Especially as our teacher always seemed to pick the popular girls to pick the teams, so they were obviously going to pick their friends. And too be honest even if was really good at sport, unpopular kids always get picked last. The sigh of the team captain looking around, seeing there is only me left and saying 'Eugh, I guess we'll have Hannah then.'

I don't think that I minded spending every lunch time on my own, I think I just enjoyed watching people. Watching other children hang out, or whatever they called it. By the end of September, everyone had a firm group of friends except me. I even think some girls in the year above took pity on me and came to speak to me every lunchtime that I was on my own. But soon after, I finally found a friend. And at first, I thought she was the best friend anyone could have and we were going to be friends forever. But it never quite works out like that.

Year 7- A Firm Group of Friends

It must have been October when I made my first friend at St James's. I was still the kid who just sat by the sidelines watching everyone else at break and lunch. I think I tried to make friends, but it just backfired on me when they just acted like they didn't want to know me. I decided after that just to play the waiting game, that one day it would work.

I remember I started to talk to her in an Art lesson. I sat opposite her at a table all the time. Having Dyspraxia, Art wasn't exactly my strong point, my drawing was awful. I usually just improvised in Art and I don't think I even knew what I was drawing. But it was my seriously bad drawing that eventually got me a friend. I think I remember talking to her about the drawing, but I think she started the conversation. I can't really remember too be honest. She was in my form group as well, her name was Sophie. She was very much in my social group, as by this time our year group had established themselves into 3 groups. The populars, the wannabe populars and the unpopular people. Me and Sophie were probably the only ones in our form that were in the unpopular status. She also had another 'friend' who she had attached herself too. I didn't really like her from the start, not because she was a horrible person, but because I wanted Sophie to myself. She was probably one of the most hated girls in the year group. She didn't really do anything wrong, she was just unlucky really. I didn't jump right into a friendship with Sophie though, I played the waiting game again and became friends with her gradually. I think a day or so after she attempted to compliment my dodgy drawings, I saw her wandering about alone at lunch time. It looked like she was looking for someone. I remember thinking to myself, just pluck up the courage to go and talk to her. Just talk to her. And I did. I remember asking her if she was ok. I think she said she was looking for someone. I offered to help her, but we gave up after a while of looking and I walked back to form with her. I then worked with her and her other friend the next day in Science and it sort of went from there really.

By the following term I had happily gained a firm circle of friends. Shortly after the January term started, Sophie's other friend moved school due to bullying so it was just me and her for a few months. We also started to make friends with a girl called Emily who was in a different form to us but I knew her from my Maths class. I can't really remember making friends with Emily but she became part of our group quickly.

It was just the three of us for a while, until a new girl joined the school. Her name was Chloe and she joined after the Easter term started. She was new to our form and I made friends with her as I knew how it was to be on your own. She also, as being more our social group became friends with us quickly.

With Year 7 coming to a close, I had established a firm group of friends. We were the unpopular kids, who no one particularly liked, but it didn't seem to matter as we had each other. As me, Sophie and Chloe were in the same form we had most of our classes together. And I was pleased, after Chloe joined our school that I wasn't picked for sports last. We also went round each other's houses after school. I was close to Sophie as she was my friend for the longest and we already had a good friendship before we met Emily and Chloe. I got on well with Emily because she sat with me in Maths and we spent most of the lesson talking. She was also very laid back and easy to get on with. In a way me and Chloe had quite a lot in common, which made us get on well. It was a start of a new beginning. For a while, I think I forgot I even had autism.

Year 7- Obsessions

I'm not sure when it was when this part of my life started. It was after I made friends. You may look at the title 'obsessions' and many assumptions may come into your mind... But these weren't normal everyday obsessions- Oh no. It's proven, through loads of research done on Asperger Syndrome that normal obsessions consisted of things like animals or cars, although saying that I could never imagine myself being obsessed with an animal. You may also class someone with Asperger Syndrome with a lot of knowledge being obsessive- like someone being good at maths or knowing half of the English Dictionary. I wouldn't count that obsessive as such- I know all the capitals of Europe, All the stations and their lines on the London Underground as well as knowing all the junctions off the M25 and Hitler's mother's birthday. I put it all down to knowledge over time. It's also proven though, that girls have different obsessions than the average Asperger boy. I suppose there is less research done on obsessions by Asperger Syndrome girls, because there's less of them. I don't know any of them off hand. Although I do know a lot of boys with Asperger Syndrome. I don't have obsessions with cows, pigs or cars. I have obsessions with people. Teachers.

I didn't know, however when I started to have these obsessions in Year 7, that they were obsessions. In fact, I didn't call them obsessions till a few years later. While everyone else, at the age of 11 and 12 was starting to go through hormones and whatever and was starting to fancy the opposite sex (or the same sex, but no one admitted it...). It now seems silly that little Year 7's would have boyfriends. They weren't really serious. I remember Sophie I think having one and being asked out by a few other boys. I think Emily had one for about 4 days but I don't think Chloe got one till year 8, and in true autistic fashion, I was the last one to get a boyfriend, not getting one until year 9. But I wasn't desperate, like everyone else seemed to be. While everyone else was going for other 12 year olds, I went for a different type of age. Grown male teachers.

The first little 'obsession' I had was with my French teacher, Mr. Blanc. I have no idea why, maybe it was because he was French and you don't get many French people where I live. He wasn't exactly the most attractive man under the sun either, granted, I'm sure that it wouldn't be hard for someone to find him attractive, but he was no male model. He was incredibly small for one and me being one of, if not the tallest girl in the year group I easily had to look down at him. I remember it was a joke with me and Sophie at first, and later Emily and Chloe joined in the joke. Me and Sophie would make up songs about him (Which I can't really remember now) and would suppress laughter if we would walk past him in the corridors, especially if he smiled at us. We would sit and gossip about him during our French lessons and Sophie, who was a lot more bubbly and outgoing than me found out that if you asked him questions in French he would answer. Even personal questions that I didn't dare ask, but Sophie did like 'How old are you?' Turns out he was 35. I remember Sophie writing it on her hand and showing it too me from the other side of the classroom. If I look back, maybe it wasn't an obsession. I don't know what it was. It didn't have anywhere near the severity of the obsessions I had in the future. But as an innocent 11 year old, it was just a little crush, which would pass. And it did.

I got my next little obsession quite far into the year, after Mr. Blanc had been and gone. Again it was with a teacher that I knew, but not as much as I knew Mr. Blanc. We had him for reading the library every other two weeks. He didn't really talk to us, he just chucked us all a book while he read his own. Mr. Fotopoulos, his name was. He was quite famous around the school, without being our teacher. Everyone new Mr. Fotopoulos, as his dad, 'Big Fotopoulos' as we called him was the head teacher. His son, was 'little Fotopoulos' or 'baby Fotopoulos' to some. He was also quite high up in the school, despite still being in his late 20s. Unlike Mr. Blanc, I thought anyway that he was quite attractive and was probably attractive to others. Even Sophie admitted that he was 'the best looking male teacher in the school.' He was quite exotic really. He was of Greek ancestry and possessed that type of skin tone, not quite white but not quite Asian, although he sounded like he had been born and brought up in England- as did his dad at that. I had never really been around people of different races before, as although I seemed to have quite a lot of foreign teachers, and despite being so close to London, the town I lived in was quite un-ethnic. I remember looking at him in reading the library and going out of my own way to look at him. But as I peered at him over the schools copy of a Shakespeare classic, I hadn't a clue in my mind, how much I would have to do with him later on....

Year 7 was a simple year compared to the rest. Probably three times as simple. I even felt confident enough to go on the annual French trip at the end of the summer term (and no, it wasn't because Mr. Blanc was in charge...) I remember sticking with Sophie as Emily and Chloe were on a different coach and in a different group. I remember walking down the streets of Boulonge Sur Mer watching Sophie buy all this extravagant pink accessories, before she paraded in front of the teachers. All the teachers loved her. She wasn't only outgoing and nice but also incredibly intelligent and was in top set for everything. I don't think I minded in Year 7 that I was just her sidekick. I was just the quiet, more un-intelligent kid that no one really wanted to talk too. Everyone knew her name. No one new mine. No one wanted to know. I felt as if no one cared. I didn't care about this at first- but I was about too.

Year 7 was quite successful. Settled into school, made some new friends and even went on a French trip. I honestly thought Year 8 could only get better. Oh how wrong I was.

Year 8- Trouble from the Start

It's weird what you remember. Pretty much all of what you have just read is all I remember from year 7. Everything else is a distant memory, mainly because it wasn't that important. Yeah I made a few friends and settled in, but nothing dramatic really happened, but that wasn't going to last for long.

I started year 8 with a fresh start. I was still in the same form, but I had to bid goodbye to my lovely year 7 form tutor and say hello to my new form tutor, Mr. Jones. He was the head of P.E and didn't know him at all as he taught boys P.E. He was very different from Mrs. Mostert, who generally cared about us. Mr. Jones came in in the mornings in tight P.E short wanting to get registration done as quickly as possible. I also had a different head of year, although that didn't really affect me because heads of years were there to deal with badly behaved students or students that had got issues. And until the middle of year 8 I was neither badly behaved nor had any particular issues. I started off Year 8, with Sophie and Chloe. I remember sitting next to Chloe on the first day in Mr. Jones's as we had walked to school together. I always found the first day quite exciting, missing half of the lessons for a day and getting a new timetable. I enjoyed looking at what lessons I had and the teachers for them, quickly I would learn the timetable off by heart and more than often learn my friends in the process. I remember being quite happy with my selection of teachers. I was incredibly happy, as I remember, having my year 7 form tutor as a Maths teacher. I remember then looking noisily over at Chloe's timetable, interested at who she had. I remember looking at who she had for English and pointed to it. 'Oh, you have Ms. Baker. She was a training teacher last year.' But now I have no doubt that Ms. Baker thoroughly regrets stepping over the threshold of St James's.

I think what I was looking forward to most be getting a new obsession. It was now getting a mystery, as I felt that every time an obsession was coming to an end, that there was a new one round the corner. It was sort of a guessing game, me and my friends would guess who I would move onto next. It didn't take me too long to get an obsession at the beginning of Year 8, although it didn't last for long. And quite surprisingly, it was someone I was really close with and had constant contact with. Yes, it was Mr. Jones, my form tutor. For about a month after that, form was an exciting place. Again, my friends joined in with my 'crush' as I called it at the time. I suppose, thinking back he was quite attractive. I can't deny that I didn't enjoy the fact that he always did registration in shorts. I even remember we named this acorn- that was always under the this tree we used to sit under- 'Jonesey' in his honor. It was all a game, a laugh. We spent form times and lunchtimes gossiping about him and his girlfriend.

I settled in well to year 8. Half the classes were now set in ability, which cut me off from Sophie and Chloe who were clever and put me at more at Emily's level. I was in her English (although English was mixed bottom and middle set), Maths and French class that year and although that doesn't seem that much, we had three English lessons, three maths lessons and three French lessons so it did all add up. I sat next to her in all three classes and I think that's how we started to get really close.

It must have been October when a new part of my life started. A new part of my life that was going to affect me for a long time afterward. This is when it all started.

Year 8- A New Obsession

It must have been October 2007 when I got a new obsession. A different obsession. Mr. Jones was such a minuscule obsession. It was an odd situation as I can't remember how it started off. I can't remember gradually liking them. Yes, them. There was two of them. And they weren't attractive men under 35. In fact they weren't men at all.

Yes, I seemed to of found myself in an obsession with two women. I wasn't expecting it, but somehow I don't think it surprised me much. I wasn't one of those teenagers who found gay people or lesbian's disgusting and un-natural. I look at things in very black and white. Too me, being gay or straight is like the same as being black or white, Christian or Jewish etc. I couldn't see how anyone could have a problem. As after all, it was really none of their business. But I was about to find out that young people seemed to have an issue with people who were different.

But I'm getting ahead of myself here, I haven't even said who I was obsessed with. They were too very similar people, too me. Although one was older and one was younger, they were both English teachers and were often seen together. One of them I knew immediately as Miss Harris, who was my English teacher. She was in her mid to late 20s, and probably wasn't everyone's idea of an attractive woman, I'm sure, although I thought she was pretty. She was very natural looking, I don't think I ever saw her wearing makeup. She would also come in in the morning with her hair tied in a scruffy pony tail or bun, very similarly to mine in fact. I also liked her as an English teacher, as she was generally nice. Although that was mainly because I was a good student and got on with my work and always did my homework, a task which annoyingly the rest of the class found hard to handle. She was the first one, but there was a second one to come. I had two obsessions, but the second was worse. More intense. Twice as overpowering. I shared my feelings for her with another English teacher, Ms. Baker. I mentioned earlier that she was a training teacher when I was in year 7. Oddly enough, she trained to be a teacher in French but I think I was so hooked up on Mr. Blanc that I don't think I paid a whole load of attention to her. She taught us almost half the time, while Mr. Blanc sat at the back and observed her, but some of the time it was just her on her own. She really couldn't control the rowdy bunch of 11 year olds which was my year 7 class. I think I was quite well behaved, although she played that teacher game of making us sit in alphabetical order. And whenever I sat in alphabetical order I was always next to the same boy. He obviously had special needs of some sort, I think it was ADHD, but the whole class loved him because he just spent the whole time messing about. I was usually quite a grounded student, but did spend my whole time laughing at him in class because I found him quite amusing. That was probably why I got 'Don't be distracted by people around you.' In my year 7 report. It was hard, but I think they also sat me next to him as I was a good student and I think the theory was that it would help him quieten down a bit. But I remember especially teaming up with him in French, although I was never badly behaved, I joined in with him a bit too much. I can remember being in hysterics of laughter at one point when he lobbed an elastic band at Ms. Baker's head. With French in year 7 aside, I thought differently about her. She was different from the outset. Apart from the obvious, there was something noticeably different about Ms. Baker from Mr. Blanc, Mr. Fotopoulos, Mr. Jones and even Miss Harris. She was older, for one. Quite a lot older. But no, I'm not talking Grandma, but definitely in her late 40s, although I don't think I thought of it at the time. Although I knew I felt differently about her from her, just different. I suppose, I thought that my friends could understand me liking an attractive young man such as Mr. Fotopoulos , but not so much an old married woman in her 40s.

I think I kept it from my three best friends for a while, only because I didn't know how they would take it. At that point, I just wanted to please everyone and didn't want to upset of offend anyone. However if I was in the same situation now as I was then, I would probably tell them quite quickly and figure that if they found it odd or strange then they weren't good friends. Although it turned out I had nothing to worry about.

I remember telling Sophie 'the big secret first'. I think I told her because she was probably my best friend at the time and quite understanding. And besides, I knew she had gay uncles so knew that she wasn't homophobic in anyway. As predicted, she didn't mind at all and she even said I should have told her earlier. I also told Emily and Chloe. Chloe apparently had lesbian aunts, although Chloe lied quite a lot so I wasn't too sure whether she was telling to truth or just trying to be like Sophie. But the main thing was, she didn't care whether I liked women or men- nor did Emily. Then I just took it for granted, but now I really look back and think, after everything that happened, that they were a nice group of 12 year olds to actually accept I was a lesbian, or I more so thought I was.

Again, it became the subject of our jokes and gossip- although it seemed a bit different than before. I didn't have a clue, any clue that it would turn out the way it did

Year 8- Confusion

It didn't take long for this obsession to turn into something a lot tenser, a lot more annoying and above all a lot more confusing. I was starting to get confused why I liked Ms. Baker especially, as I didn't quite understand how I felt. Did I love her? No, it was different from love. It was an odd feeling, of pure confusion. I was obsessed with her a lot in my mind, I thought about her a lot, but it was more intense. It wasn't the way I thought about the men before, it was in a more tense way. A feeling that I had no control whether she was in my mind or not. I remember especially in D.T (Design and Technology), I used to get depressed. Maybe it was because it was the only subject were it was just me and Sophie, who I felt comfortable talking too the most. I didn't really like D.T anyway, I found it pretty pointless. I liked our teacher however, but could never bring myself to tell him the truth so spent most of the time outside of the lesson. The obsession was becoming intense, and I would go out of my own way just to go and find her. Even though I had Miss Harris, I couldn't help feeling that I wanted Ms. Baker instead and was jealous that Chloe had her. I was forever asking about her and what she did in class, but they normally weren't terribly nice things. Once, she said 'Well today, she was standing in front of the closed door and Joe kicked it from behind and it hit her in the back and she spent the rest of the lesson crying.' She laughed at this afterwards, 'It was so funny.' She said. I, try not to get into arguments with people. Or tried to not too, at that point. But to this, I had to say. 'Well it's actually not funny is it? Whoever it is, if they are hurt and upset, it's not funny. Even if it's someone you don't like, I wouldn't laugh if they were crying.' It upset me, slightly, that people treated her in this way, and everyone seemed to laugh about it. I would never treat her badly, thought, I wished for anything to be in her class.

But other things were starting to happen. For one, my friends were starting to get more fed up with me. I knew that Chloe was anyway, as she voiced it openly and often rudely. Sophie, I knew felt the same way but was polite enough not to voice it, as was Emily, although she still says to this day that I didn't annoy her, but she was probably just being polite. Amid the sadness that my friends just thought I was being annoying, I also had more issues. I was starting to feel differently to the whole situation. I was starting to get more confused, as the obsession tensed. I couldn't understand what was happening to me and I put it down to one thing, that I called depression. Obviously I wasn't depressed I was just confused, but at that point that's what I believed it was. Sophie, who was quite mature for her age, often spoke about depression, not because she had it, more because she knew other people had it, so I adopted that idea.

By May, my friendship with Chloe had basically broken. She had not only managed to have voiced several times her hate for me talking about Ms. Baker, but had also threatened to beat me up on one occasion, as well as feeling the need to draw Germans being blown up in Art after I told her my nan was German. I knew I did talk about Ms. Baker a lot, but I felt it wasn't something to be threatening and racist about. Sometime in May, she stopped talking to me altogether. My relationship with Sophie was also suffering. The fact that I felt depressed often led me to self-harm, or more stab myself with a pencil or a couple of times I've cut myself with scissors or a similar object. I also threatened to kill myself, I even described how I would do so, by jumping out of a window. Room 14, to be exact. I still have the suicide plans now, up in my room. I look back on them sometimes. Now I can imagine how destructive my plans were, although I didn't know it then. It especially affected Sophie who had had someone close to her commit suicide, and now I look back I feel like an idiot but I was in such a messed up place and for the first time in my life, at that point, I didn't think I was right in the head. I did think I was a bit mentally ill, and was on and off to the end of year 11. But it was only going to get worse.

I then started to obsess over Ms. Baker's personal life. I had to stop and think one day that she always signed herself as Ms., never miss or Mrs. As I kept on thinking that I fancied her I started to be bothered about this. And this showed, I think the intensity of the obsession, as before I wouldn't have cared. Mr. Blanc spoke about his wife when I was obsessed with him, I knew Mr. Fotopoulos was dating a science teacher in the school and Mr. Jones was dating the woman from the office. But I seemed to really care about Ms. Baker being married, which I voiced to my friends. 'Well, it's not that hard,' said Chloe irritably, 'just look for the ring on her finger.'

'Which one is it?' I asked, looking at my own fingers. As she pointed, I put a black circle on it to establish which one it was.

I found out the answer soon after, as soon as I saw her finger. I wasn't surprised when I saw a gold ring on the finger I had circled on my hand. I really wasn't surprised given her age, although that didn't stop me from feeling awful about it. I used to obsess over that more than ever. I started to get violent. To myself, I thought that I had to kill him. I had to kill her husband. Obviously I wasn't going to kill anyone, but I think I told Sophie, Emily and Chloe enough about it. I made plans and everything. This was probably when my mental health started to go downhill. But it was going to get much, worse.

Year 8- Not Like Everyone Else

With the life-controlling obsession aside, it wasn't just that that seemed to make me different from everyone else in Year 8, although I really didn't notice it. I was probably, for one, the fourth most unpopular person in the year group. (I know, better than first). Sophie and Chloe and another girl I believed at that point were below me in the popular table. They started to have issues with the more popular girls. I think one of them started to pick on Sophie or something, and then Chloe stuck up for her and after that they hated each other. I think it even got physical a couple of times. I just stood by the sidelines normally, with Emily, just watching. The only reason why I didn't really get involved- apart from the fact that Chloe did it so well on her own- was the fact that I didn't want to become one of their victims. Luckily, despite minding my own business, I had a benefit against the popular girls as one of the main ones I was quite friendly in primary school with. I remember helping her on her first day. She seemed to of remembered this and I think told the other girls not to bother me. It was odd, because even after, in year 9 and 10 the girls from my primary school seemed to get bitchier and bitchier in their girl gangs, but we always had mutual respect for each other. I never had an issue with anyone from my primary school actually.

Secondly, I figured at the time that my mind must have worked in a different way. Everyone seemed to know so much more about me in life in general. When, Emily especially who was probably the most immature one out of the lot of us (I was equally immature a lot of the time) used to share jokes with people, a lot of them were in the sexual context, I never had any idea what she was on about. I remember also having an assembly on sex education in Year 8 and I don't think I understood a word of what anyone was talking about, but the rest of the year group seemed too. Either I had a really rubbish sex education in year 6, or I just didn't listen. I think I put it down too only taking in information in that I wanted too. I could easily take in information, but only information my mind wanted to take in. I was quite good at geography even at primary school. I remember sometimes I could even outsmart the teachers. Once In year 5 we were separating fruit into the continents they were originally come from. I remember there was a banana from Costa Rica, but I then found a slight issue. Our teacher had only given us North and South America as categories, but Costa Rica was in Central America, and there was no option for that. I, of course, had to enquire about this. I'm sure a 9 year olds Geography mind didn't stretch much further than that. I'm sure that half of 9 year olds hadn't even heard of Costa Rica. I don't even think my 14 year old brother would know what continent it was in. I also had selected knowledge of history. My mum got me this Holocaust book for my 13th Birthday in year 8. Soon enough, I knew all the major Nazi leaders, their births, deaths and cause of deaths. But in year 8, it's much cooler to know stuff about sex than history, I found out.

I think also just think that the way I thought was different in year 8. I didn't really think of the consequences or what other people would think of my actions. I think half the time I didn't even think about what I was doing. I remember once, me and Emily were in French ICT with our eccentric French teacher. As we were sharing a computer we only had to use one login for the computer program, 'Metro Electro'. As it was our first time In the ICT suite, we had to create a password and username for Metro Electro. For whatever reason, we used Emily's username and she created a password. However, if it was too be the other way around, I knew I would have put 'Ms. Baker' as a password. I didn't think about this till the next lesson, when we were in the ICT room again and our teacher, Mrs. Loizou went through all the people who hadn't created passwords last lesson. I had no clue that teachers saw the passwords. And I don't think I even realized until Mrs. Loizou yelled across the room at me, 'Hannah, what do you want your password to be?' Madly, I thought it was metro electro that controlled the passwords and therefore was shocked, as I wouldn't of known how Mrs. Loizou would of acted if I had put 'Ms. Baker' as my password. 'Err,' I remember replying to her, still shocked she was looking at the passwords. 'Hannah.' I came up with finally. Something I could remember anyway. 'Good Idea, keep it simple.' She replied.

It wasn't too long after I started to become obsessed with Miss Harris and Ms. Baker that I started to behave rather differently than any other 12 year old who fancied two female teachers. I don't think anyone else would have admitted it for one, especially those girls in the popular gangs. Not only would most people NOT admit it, they would also not go on and on about it either, especially in a sexual way. I don't even thought of them in a sexual way. I think it just seemed simpler in my head if I said I liked them in that sort of way.

It wasn't just however my best friends that knew about my obsessions. It was quickly going around the school. One of them slipped the word to someone that I 'fancied' Miss Harris and Ms. Baker. I think it was Emily that let the word slip, but too be honest the way I went on about it, it wasn't exactly a secret. People increasingly started look at me funny and started to keep their distance, but I really couldn't understand why.

Year 8- Trying To Be the Right Friend

I loved having Miss Harris as an English teacher. Although I was more obsessed with Ms. Baker, I think at the time I viewed them both equally. I was as good as gold in her class, I literally didn't say a word. I didn't want to say anything as I didn't want to say the wrong thing and cause her to have a go at me for any reason. The only time I spoke was when I spoke to Emily if we were allowed to talk, although I think I only mostly spoke about Miss Harris. I remember from January 2008 onto the end of year 8 I kept a diary every day about the both of them. Everything they wore, their actions and even what they ate. It was a bumper of a book and still have it now, I look back and get quite amused at my findings. But it wasn't really amusing to my friends. But it wasn't till the end of May in year 8 where my friendships really started to fracture.

It was Chloe who started to voice at first that I was highly irritating her. She even stopped being friends with me in May because I spoke about Ms. Baker. There was a lot more to Chloe that I didn't realize at first. She thought she was quite tough and hard although I could never imagine her in a fight. She was the kind of girl who was all words and no action. She even threatened to beat me up once, I think I was having trouble with a year 7 at the time, who I think was teasing me because of Ms. Baker. Absently mindedly, I think I said I would have a fight with them if they wanted. Chloe, who had never really stuck up for Year 7s before, managed to say in a very threatening voice. 'If you lay a finger on the year 7 I will genially knock you out. I will knock you out.' What she said wasn't exactly a shock, as she said things like that before, but I generally was quite scared. Obviously she wasn't going to knock me out, but I didn't know that at the time. After our friendship tensed over the fact that I 'drove her up the wall' because I spoke about Ms. Baker, caused her to be pretty nasty at times. Chloe was in almost all the top sets with Sophie and was generally quite clever. However, half the things she came out with weren't clever at all. I remember once we were sitting in Art, Me Sophie and Chloe on a four seater table and we were given a choice. 'I know what I'm going to draw,' said Chloe. 'The German's were well out of order to us in the wars,' she said. I was sure she used the German pun because she knew some of my family were German and I had been annoying her that day. 'My Nan is German,' I said, just to clarify things, hoping she wouldn't go any further, but she did. She managed to draw loads of people labelled 'Germans' and bombs blowing up around them. I don't think I even said anything, I just watched her. 'Chloe, stop, please,' Sophie said who never really got involved in our disputes. 'What? I'm doing nothing wrong.' She said smiling.

I wanted to go on a World War 2 rant, saying that actually not all Germans were Hitler's best mate, but I just think I kept quiet. I don't think I drew anything that lesson.

Sophie started to get slightly irritated with me next, although she never really showed it, if anything, she tried to help me. I was desperate to talk to Ms. Baker and get her attention, but I didn't know how. Her disastrous French lessons the year before were all a blur to me and I don't even think she knew who I was. She knew perfectly well who Sophie was though, as everyone seemed too. Not only was she everything I wasn't, outgoing and clever she had also had a close family member commit suicide so a lot of teachers felt a bit sorry for her. Ms. Baker, I'm sure was no exception. She had seemed to of remembered Sophie's name from our year 7 French class and Sophie often went to talk to her, only really to help me out. Although it didn't really, it only showed how much Ms. Baker liked Sophie and I was still sure that Ms. Baker didn't know who I was so it was quite difficult to randomly go up and talk to her. So I didn't for a while, I just watched Sophie from a distance. More than anything I wanted to have contact with her. Yes, I wanted to 'touch' her (and by touch, I don't mean sexually, I just wanted to touch her wherever) but more than anything I just wanted to speak to her. For her to know my name....

I remember I started to get so upset, confused and angry with this obsession that I started to take extremes myself. I was upset Ms. Baker loved someone else, confused why I even felt this way in the first place and angry that Sophie got all the attention from Ms. Baker. It must have been mid-year 8 when I started to cut myself. I cut myself with anything I could get my hands on, although usually it was a pair of scissors. They were school scissors so weren't the sharpest in the world and at first I never made myself bleed. I think by this point Chloe was fed up of me so didn't really care. Emily did care but she was laid back and dealt with it in a really calm way. It probably upset Sophie the most. But I was so desperate for everyone to know how I felt, I would do anything. Now I think back and realize how it affected everyone, but at that point I had complete tunnel vision, I couldn't think about anyone else- I didn't have enough mind space.

Year 8- A Friendship Group Falling Apart

My friendship group was crumbling at the seams. My relationship with Chloe was over and my relationship with Sophie was on the rocks. I never really had any arguments with them, until the end of May. It showed me how much I was affecting my friends, but it also showed how much my friends really miss-understood me. It was the end of May, and Chloe was having a go at me about something at lunchtime. She was getting quite verbal, before a mutual friend of both of us literally got in the middle of us and said. 'Stop arguing! Chloe go that way, and Hannah go the other.'

'Well,' said Chloe 'I need to talk about something with Sophie and Emily, something private,' and before I knew it, she had dragged Sophie and Emily off with her, which left me on my own. I then attempted to follow them before the friend that split us up pushed me the other way. 'Go the other way Hannah. Go and hang out with someone else.'

But there was no one else. I had no other friends. I stood there, unable to move, watching them walk further away. I was furious with everyone. I knew Chloe hated me, and Sophie was fed up with me and I knew Emily found it hard to stick up to herself and easily followed other people.

I stood watching them for a while, before going back inside and watching them from a distance. I think I tried to follow them around afterwards, but whenever I got near them they would walk away. Once or twice, I did see Emily hesitate and try and walk towards me, but Chloe simply grabbed her arm and pulled her away. That was when it all got too much for me, and out came the scissors. I think I did it in a corner away from everyone. But for the first time, I had made myself bleed. It didn't even hurt that much. At this point in my life, yes, I did do it for attention. I wanted people to know how bad I was feeling inside, as no one really understood. I then stood there, holding my bleeding hand in the main corridor of the school, with people passing me as they did. It was only a few minutes, before I saw Emily walk down the corridor, on her way to form as the bell was about to go soon. 'Hi Hannah!' she said, coming over to me, but stopping when she saw my hand.

'Hannah, what did you do?!' She asked

'Cut myself.' I said, simply shrugging.

'But why Hannah?' She asked, her tone of voice generally sounding worried.

'Because you lot don't like me.' I said

'No one said I didn't like you. I was just coming to find you now,' she said.

She took my arm and took me down to the office, so I could get some tissue for my hand, but on the way down, Sophie came down the corridor out of nowhere. She looked at my hand, let out a high pitched scream- and ran off again.

'Well that was helpful,' Emily said, before saying 'Do you want to go up and see Mrs. Benedict?' Mrs. Benedict was the school's learning mentor. I hadn't had a lot to do with her in the past, but I knew Sophie spent a lot of time with her, and I knew that's exactly where Sophie had ran off too. 'Ok, I'll give her a go,' I said, turning round and walking with Emily out of the main school block, towards the special needs centre of the school, where surprisingly or not, I had not spent a lot of time there since I first started. We were on our way, before we bumped into Chloe on our way. She was incredibly angry, and shouting even, saying 'What have you done now? You have just made Sophie go crying her eyes out to Mrs. Benedict'

'I cut myself. I cut it on a wall. That's why I'm bleeding'. I lied, just to try calm the situation a little, but it didn't work.

'We need to talk,' Said Chloe, who was now trying to pull me aside from the gathering crowd, most of whom were in our year.

'Do you know how much you piss everyone off? Do you know what you've been doing to us for the last few months, especially Sophie?' She said

'But Chloe, she's bleeding,' Emily started, but it was no use.

'Shut up a minute, Emily, can't you see I'm dealing with this?' She asked irritably, 'Go up and see Sophie, she's very upset.'

But Emily took my arm and said, 'Hannah, come up in the minute won't you?'

I nodded, so she let go of me and left.

People were starting to gather now. 'Do you have any idea what you are doing to us?'

I kind of half shrugged, but before I could speak another girl in our year spoke on my behalf, 'Leave her alone Chloe,' she said.

'Yeah you are being so out of order,' said another girl.

Realizing she wasn't going to win this fight, Chloe turned round and headed up to the special needs unit. I smiled gratefully at the girls, as not many people stuck up for me in life. 'Do you want me to take you to your friends?' Another girl offered.

'Forget it,' I replied, turning around, 'I don't have any friends'. Shaking with anger myself, I walked back into the hall. That's where I often went when I was upset. It was empty as the cleaners at cleared everything up and the bell was about to go. There was a picture of Ms. Baker, and that was why I often went there. It was on a display board, it was one of her and her "Book Club" that she did on a Thursday some lunchtimes. It wasn't the best picture of her, by far, but it was all I had. I was so tempted to pull the thing down, but I stopped myself just before a group of girls from my year came in. These girls, weren't normally the sort that talked to me, they were the popular kids, who didn't talk to the uncool kids like me. But for once, they seemed to be interested. They seemed to actually care.

'Are you alright?' one of them said.

'I guess,' I said

'The girls out there said you had cut yourself. Put your scissors back in your bag. What happened?' She asked. And since they were the only ones who seemed to remotely care, I told them everything, although left out any mention of Ms. Baker.

'Oh my god that's so out of order!' One said

'They shouldn't have even gone off without you in the first place' said another.

'Come on, who do you normally see when you are upset?' Asked one person

I shrugged. 'Do you want to go and see Mrs. Benedict?' She asked

'Sophie's there I think,' I said, quietly.

'Oh well, who cares.' The girl said, taking my arm and leading me up to the Special needs unit. I appreciated they were taking out time to help me, even though the bell had just gone and they would most likely be in trouble with their form tutor's if they were late to afternoon registration. Once we had all piled up to the special needs unit, one of the girls banged on the door loudly.

No answer.

They knocked again.

Still no answer.

They then knocked loudly until an angry support assistant came to the door.

'Miss, we need to speak to Mrs. Benedict,' Said one of the girls.

'You will have to go to lesson. Mrs. Benedict is busy.' She said irritably.

'Err Miss, she's kind of bleeding,' Said one of the girls, holding up my hand to her.

'If you're that desperate girls, go and see your head of year.' So it looked like a trip down to our head of year, Mrs. Carksy. I had had virtually no dealings with her in the past as I was usually a good girl with minimal problems. We all then trekked down to the English block, as she taught English and we thought she might be down there. We saw her in the middle of the English block, bustling through the crowds of students getting to their form rooms. She looked busy and irritated, carrying lots of papers. 'Miss!' We all ran up to her, 'Hannah's cut herself and she's really upset, we went up to the Special needs unit but some rude woman basically told us to go away.'

Mrs. Carksy glanced at my hand before saying, 'Right, girls, form. Hannah, come with me.'

I then slowly followed her out of the English block and up to the Special needs unit. I don't remember her saying much, before she walked into the unit and said to one of the support staff, 'Can we speak to Mrs. Nenitt please, It's urgent.' Mrs. Nenitt was the head of special needs at the school, or the SENCO as they like to call it. Again, I hadn't had much dealings with her, but that was all about to change. With Emily, Sophie and Chloe nowhere in sight, we went into Mrs. Nenitt's office. Mrs. Carksy, who didn't really gave me a chance to speak, explained what the girls told her, but before she got very far into the story, there was a knock on the door. Chloe walked in, saying to Mrs. Carksy 'Can I talk to you please Miss'

'Yes, sure, come in', she said, which didn't really help matters a lot. Mrs. Benedict also came in and sat down with us. Mrs. Carksy- who still hadn't given me a chance to speak, let Chloe have a turn at speaking. 'I don't know how much of this you know about,' she said openly to the three teachers, 'But Hannah's being driving us absolutely mad. This... obsession she's got with Miss Harris and Ms. Baker is getting out of control.' There was a slight pause. It was out in the open now then. But within a few seconds, Chloe carried on her hateful rant, 'I don't like Hannah. No one really likes her.'

'Maybe that's a bit harsh.' Mrs. Benedict played in my defense.

'Well I don't like Hannah. And Sophie and Emily don't know what to do anymore.'

This was when I spoke up. In a voice that was most likely shaky, I said 'Emily does like me. I don't care whether you don't like me, and I'm starting to not care whether Sophie doesn't like me. But I've got Emily. Emily does like me.' I said. Every emotion was running through me, I was upset, angry, annoyed, and frustrated and everything in between. I didn't find it much easier to cope with when Mrs. Carksy looked at me, and said, sympathetically, 'Hannah, maybe you just need to think more about your friend's feelings.' She said. It was a comment that was made when she didn't know what half the situation was. I couldn't even reply to it. I had no clue what to say back to her. The turnout ended up being that I went into Mrs. Benedict's office with her and Sophie, and we tried to sort everything out. Sophie let out all her feelings to me and Mrs. Benedict, while I sat there awkwardly trying to take everything intone everything had seemed to be straightened out, me and Sophie both went to our last lesson which was geography. 'Are you alright?' She asked me as soon as we left the unit.

'Yeah,' I replied. 'Sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset. I just didn't like it when you walked off from me.'

'Yeah I'm sorry too,' she said.

I didn't speak to her for the rest of the day, after giving our late excuses too our geography teacher, we spent the rest of the lesson at our usual opposite ends of the classroom. On the way out of the last lesson, as news had got round of the argument, I was crowded by people from our class who were interested to know all the gossip. Still feeling alone, I happily spoke to them about it.

I remained friends with Sophie for a little while after that, although things were only going to get worse.

Year 8- Self Control

After the total misery of the past few weeks, by the beginning of June, I was more obsessive than ever. I was so obsessed with Ms. Baker, I wanted her to notice me. I wasn't even sure if she knew my name. I know she partly taught me French the year before but it wasn't for long and I was a quiet member of the class and didn't usually get noticed. She knew Sophie's name though, Sophie often spoke to her, to try and help me to pluck up the courage to speak to her, but it just made it worse as I grew increasingly jealous. I was so jealous at one point, I said that people just liked her because they felt sorry for her, which made her very upset- although I didn't mean to upset her I just knew it was true. I didn't know how it could hurt her feelings. I wish I had a sob story like Sophie to help people like me. Let's face it, I needed it. But as I grew more apart from Sophie, something happened that in a way, changed the whole obsession around. Ms. Baker spoke to me.

I remember I was in Maths with Emily and I was happily talking to her. Our relationship had strengthened and our friendship group was slowly splitting in two, with Emily and Me going one way and Chloe and Sophie the other. I was in the middle of speaking when I saw Ms. Baker enter the classroom. I stopped talking for a second while she went to speak to our Maths teacher, before going back to talking to Emily again. But before I knew it, she had bent down between me and Emily and said, 'Do one of you two want to do me a favour for the office?' She asked.

I think I answered before she had even finished the question. 'Yes! I'll do it!' I said

'Thanks!' She replied to me, smiling. 'It's Hannah, isn't it?'

'Yes.' I said, totally stunned. 'Yes, It is.'

'Good choice Miss,' chipped in our maths teacher, 'Hannah's a very valued member of the class.'

I could never thank her more for saying that. I immediately jumped out of my seat and started to gather my stuff together to follow her. She waited for me to pack all my maths equipment away, before we walked down the corridor together. She spoke to me on the way down to the office, talking about how she had been looking everywhere to find someone. I wasn't really listening, as I was off in my own little world. My adrenalin was pumping, I was in quite a hyper state. The job Ms. Baker wanted me to do was "Duty Student", which was a job that students usually got once a year if they were lucky and was when you would do random jobs for the office instead of going to lessons, which sounded like a good deal for me. Although I don't remember doing much work for that office that afternoon, I just remember plotting my next plan to help get Ms. Baker's attention. And I knew exactly how to do that.

As mid-June was approaching, it was getting lovely and warm outside. Every Wednesday, Ms. Baker was on duty by the back gate and I enjoyed watching her pace back and forth trying to stop people from exiting the school. On Wednesdays Sophie had drama club and Emily did another club, both of which I couldn't bear to go too, so I usually spent Wednesdays on my own. Although I was dying to go and have a conversation with Ms. Baker, and it wasn't until the 9th of June, that I found a way. I was talking to an old friend from primary who was in the year below me via email, who happened to go to St James's as well, and we were talking about her family etc. and she said, 'Oh it's my mum's birthday tomorrow. She shares it with Ms. Baker funnily enough. It's hers too'. This was when sat bolt upright in my seat, my heart pounding. 'Really?' I emailed back straight away. 'English Ms. Baker? English teacher Ms. Baker?' When she confirmed it was, I sat back in my chair, thinking. All I wanted to do was talk to her, communicate with her. That's all I wanted. Was it that much? I suddenly had an idea, and before I could stop myself I was in my room, with a pot of felt pens. I was going to make her a card. I didn't have a very good stationary supply so had to make do with some felt pens for then. It made it look more colourful anyway. I wouldn't say I was an artist- no way- but I tried to make the card look as neat as it could. I thought hard about what to say. And I'm sure what I eventually came out with was neither sensible nor smart, and probably didn't make a whole load of sense. Over 6 years on, I can't really remember what the card said, although I don't think I said many bad things in it, I think it just said how I felt about her. I think I even tried to disguise it as something more innocent than it really was, by putting something birthday related on the front. I remember also putting a poem on the back. Yes, a poem. I enjoyed English but I don't think I was the best poem writer in the world. I remember a good few verses of the poem, but won't put them down here, it's all rather embarrassing too be honest. I didn't even put the card in an envelope, I just folded it and put it in my school blazer pocket.

For once, I don't think I told Sophie and Emily of my plans, and did it alone, although I was very nervous about doing it. At one point I think I even tried to bribe my science teacher into giving it too her for me, but unsuccessfully, When the lunch bell rang, I was walking towards the Ms. Baker's duty post. As Sophie and Emily had already gone off to do their clubs, I didn't see and talk to them before I went there and went there straight away and even got there before Ms. Baker herself. I hid behind the D.T block before I saw her familiar figure walking towards the back gate. I must have stood there for a good long time before I actually went to see her. I also got several interruptions before I made the move, one being a year 7 who came over just to annoy me, as, it would seem years 7s normally did. 'My brother told me you are a lesbian,' one of them came up behind me and said, making me jump.

'I don't even know who you are, let alone your brother, so I doubt I would tell him my personal business.' I snapped back at her.

'He said you fancy Ms. Baker. That one over there.' she said, pointing.

I have no doubt that it didn't look obvious, as I was hiding behind a block of classrooms looking at her.

'Well I don't, so go away. Go on. And you can tell your brother to stop spreading stuff about me as well.' I said.

'So you are a lesbian?'

'GO AWAY!' I shouted at her.

'She's a mad lesbian and all,' she said, hurrying off.

I took a deep breath, feeling irritated. I had to be in good mood when I spoke to Ms. Baker, so I took one more deep breath before stepping out from behind the classrooms and stormed right towards her.

As she saw me coming she said, 'Hi, Hannah.' Which was always a good start.

'Hi miss,' I said approaching her with the card in my hand. 'Some year 9's told to give this too you.' I said, an excuse that I had just made it up on the spot.

'What, those Year 9's over there?' She said, pointing to a group of year 9s sat on the field.

'No,' I said, pausing. 'Random ones.' I said.

She laughed while I turned and walked at a fast pace and didn't stop till I had reached my form room which was the other side of the school. I wasn't sure what was going to happen, I was sure she was going to tell Mrs. Carksy, although maybe it went past the head of year. Maybe it went to someone higher. I waited in my last lesson- maths for someone to come and get me and talk to me. But no one came. I wandered then if she had actually told anyone. But she must have done.... It wasn't till the following year that I found out she had told someone, but no one had come and spoken to me about it, like apparently they should have done.

Now, with everything out in the open, and with my head of year and the special needs staff knowing of my obsessions as well as nearly half my year group and half of the year group below, Ms. Baker herself also new. But no one had spoken to me about it, so I kind of went on as normal in life. Maybe it was my crumbling friendship group, which added to my stress levels that made me even more obsessed with Ms. Baker. I had always wanted to touch Ms. Baker. I don't know where or how, it was most likely her arm or something. But of course when you say 'touch', now, I realize people automatically think you mean sexually, although I can't see why. Although up until a week or so after I sent the card, I had always had good self-control, but that all seemed to be changing. I remember we had an engineering day in June of year 8. I forgot what we were even doing, but I remember it was in the science block with our science teacher from year 7, Ms. Mansfield. We did engineering days in forms, so Emily was in a different group and it was just me Sophie and Chloe. Chloe still wasn't on speaking terms with me and Sophie was still doubtful. The first part of the morning seemed to be successful, then we had are morning break, although me Sophie and Chloe spent it talking to Ms. Mansfield. She was telling us what was going to happen next, and said, 'Ms. Baker is going to come in and do a presentation on something, and then you are going to go into groups an-'

'What? English teacher Ms. Baker?' I interrupted. Chloe rolled her eyes, but I wasn't happy about Ms. Baker being there- I was worried. Now I think back that it was such a ridiculous situation after all that had happened, yet Ms. Baker seemed to be happy to come in a room with me and act normal, and people like my head of year and special needs staff let it happen. But I don't think I thought about it in that way then, I was more concerned that she was going to be in the room with me. Really it should have been the other way round, but it wasn't at that point. Sure enough, when the lesson started again Ms. Baker came in and did a presentation. I felt fine at first, but it was when she set us some work to do, that it started not to become fine. Luckily, after all what happened with me cutting myself and Sophie, I had gained an 'exit card'. Which allowed me to either go outside for a while or go and see the learning mentor, Mrs. Benedict who I had gained a good relationship with since the argument I had with Sophie and would go and see her out of my own free will as well as having two scheduled appointments with her a week. But at this point, she was on holiday so couldn't see her, but I needed to get out of this situation, I thought. I took my exit card out of my pocket and looked around for Ms. Mansfield, but she had seemed to of disappeared. I didn't even bother telling Sophie where I was going, so I got up and walked towards the only teacher left in the room, Ms. Baker. I shook as I approached her- oh I was so close to her. I'm not even sure I had a desire to touch her, but the fact that I was so close to her was too much for me to bare. As I approached her, I still had my exit card in my hand, and went behind her and she was bending helping someone with their work. 'Miss. I have... can I go and be outside. Thanks,' I said and ran out before she could respond. I then paced the science corridor weighing out my options. I could either; 1. Go back in the classroom or 2. Go and seek help from someone like Mrs. Carksy. I really wanted to speak to Ms. Mansfield but she had seemed to of vanished, so in the end made the decision to go back in the class, although I shouldn't have done. I went to sit next to Sophie and Chloe, who with no surprises asked no questions. I don't think I even joined in with the group work, I just sat there, thinking. For the first time in my life, I had felt like this that being around her, was too much, and I might... touch her. I was contemplating this, when Ms. Mansfield came back into the room, and Chloe and Sophie had a question, so they put their hands up. Hoping that Ms. Mansfield came over instead of Ms. Baker, I was unlucky, and Ms. Baker came over and bent down beside me. She was there for ages- just talking to Chloe and Sophie about random things in the end. I couldn't believe that after I sent her that card and the content in it, she would torment me and stand beside me talking to us like nothing ever happened. I zoned out of the conversation for a while and only zoned back in again when I heard Ms. Baker say the word 'daughter.' I'm sure I sat bolt upright in my seat, alert. She was talking to Sophie and Chloe about something to do with her daughter breaking something, but after she had said the word daughter, I was immersed in my own thoughts again, the word kept on rolling around in my head- daughter, daughter. Ms. Baker... has a daughter.... Anger, frustration and confusion filled my body, as it all came to one thing. Ms. Baker had had sex with someone. Now of course, I knew she was married and I knew that's what married couples do and everything, but it was that she confirmed it. Thoughts and images filled my head- before I realized that this was no longer a safe place for me to be. So I got up, picked up my bag and showed my exit card to Ms. Mansfield, without saying anything. She nodded. I then headed out the door, down the corridor and down the stairs, where I stopped. I didn't know where to go- I didn't have anywhere to go without Mrs. Benedict, so I just stood there for a while. I even forced myself to cry, to show how bad I felt. I didn't usually cry, not at that point anyway, despite all I went through from year 8 to year 11, I only cried once in school naturally, at the beginning of Year 10, where it all just got too much. Ms. Mansfield had come to see me, just as the tears had started to fall. 'Are you ok Hannah? You look pale, are you ill?' She asked.

'No,' I said.

'Who do you normally see when you feel like this?'

'Mrs. Benedict, but she's on holiday,' I replied.

'Well if you tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help,' she offered.

But there was no way I was going to tell anyone else about my problems, so I simply said, 'I can't go near Ms. Baker, but I can't tell you why.' I said.

I don't know if she had any clue what I was talking about, but she nodded and told her to follow me, saying 'I think you just need to be on your own for a while in a quiet room.' She said. But her idea of a quiet room was the medical room, a room were people went if they were ill. It wasn't a particularly pleasant room, a room were student often went to bunk and it didn't smell very nice either. I didn't feel like this was going to make me feel so much better, so as soon as Ms. Mansfield was out of sight, I found a nice corner of a corridor and spent the rest of my day there. No one asked me any questions

Year 8- Goodbye, My Friend

It seemed by the beginning of July, everything was broken, my friendship group was almost split in two. My obsessions seemed too be getting more intense. But it was no longer just the school that were noticing my odd behavior. By the end of June, my mum had taken me to the GP to try and get them to refer me to a psychologist for some sort of therapy. She said it would help me manage my obsessions and would help me think more about other people's feelings. I ended up getting referred to children's mental health clinic, not too far from home. I got referred to a doctor that I was very familiar with; Dr. Bailey saw me a lot when I was younger when my parents were fighting for a diagnosis. He also diagnosed me with Dyspraxia when I was about six, and later diagnosed me with OCD when I was 16. Before I could have my first appointment, however, something happened that turned everything around.

It was a Tuesday- it was a normal day, Chloe had come to her senses and decided it was better if we got along for the sake of a group so we actually had a proper conversation before assembly. It seemed like a pretty normal morning- I can't seem to remember it to be honest. I think I had science before break, as it was a lesson I had on my own, as I remember going to meet Sophie and Emily in the hall. But I was surprised when I got there that Sophie and Chloe were sitting with a group of friends and Emily was on her own, so I immediately sat with Emily. 'Are you alright?' I asked her, as she was looking at the table.

She shook her head. She had had an argument with Sophie or something, and Emily had also said that Sophie had been ranting about me as well as Emily. Furious, as I had been sitting there minding my own business, I stuck with Emily for the rest of the day. I can't even remember what else happened but something must have happened as I came home in a rage and wrote an email out to her. How on earth could she rant about me? I thought. She was lucky, I thought. I had done a lot for her. It wasn't an email of much thought, as I wrote it out in about 3 minutes. It consisted of,

Sophie,

I know this may upset you but its life.

I don't know why you have been talking behind my back. I've done so much for you, I haven't cut myself recently because of you, I've been hanging around with Chloe because of you, I haven't committed suicide because of you and I haven't raped Ms. Baker yet because of you.

Of course to her, it was probably the first bit that was most damaging, but I thought the first sentence would make it better. I was telling her that it might make her upset but its life. Now I look back I can see how it might hurt her feelings. And of course the last bit, caused a bit of a stir. I wasn't right in the head, I really wasn't I was so confused and mixed up and no one was helping me- I don't think I really meant rape. I was so confused I honestly didn't think I knew what I was talking about. I expected that Sophie would probably apologize to me the next day as she would see how much I've done for her. That's what I generally thought. But it all went the other way. Emily called me up later on that evening and said she wasn't coming in the next day. I knew she wasn't coming in because she had an argument with Sophie, and her mum was a bit of a soft touch also. I was quite happy to go in though, as I didn't really think much of the message. The next day, Sophie seemed a bit off with me in the morning and didn't really look or talk to me. I plucked up the courage at break time to ask, 'Sophie, are you talking to me?' I asked her.

She kind of made a funny noise and walked off.

'Because I don't really know what I've done wrong,' I called after her.

'She's really upset about the messages you sent her' said one of her friends. 'She said she may tell Mrs. Carksy and Mr. Fotopoulos.'

I stood there, stunned. It had just been announced that Mr. Fotopoulos would be my head of year next year, and as the year was drawing to a close, he was working closely with Mrs. Carksy to prepare him for next year, so they were almost jointly our head of year at the end of year 8. I hadn't had anything to do with him before, apart from when I had a little obsession with him in Year 7, but that was long gone. The thought of Mrs. Carksy reading the message was bad enough, let alone Mr. Fotopoulos - a man, and worse off, a man I didn't know. I didn't know what to do with myself for the rest of the day, I didn't talk to Sophie or Chloe or anyone, and I stood at lunchtime and watched them eat their lunch happily talking to others. I was so upset and confused, and with Mrs. Benedict still on holiday, I couldn't speak to anyone. It must have been nearing the end of lunchtime, when two boys came to speak to me in the corridor. They were both friends of Sophie, one of them I liked and the other I particularly didn't, as he teased me about Ms. Baker. 'I heard you sent some messages to Sophie,' the one I particularly didn't like said.

'Well, I didn't' I said

'Messages about Ms. Baker'. He said, smiling.

I then knew that they knew what was in the messages. I was so angry with Sophie that she had showed the messages to people, messages that she was mature enough to know that most people would be disgusted at. I knew at this point, that I had really upset her, but I knew if it was the other way round and it was me I would of never of done that.

'Just shut up, you don't know anything,' I said pushing past both of them and going out onto the field alone. I had P.E last, and decided, that I simply wasn't going to go. I was simply going to stay out on the field. There was no way I was going near Sophie, Chloe or anyone. The bell went for afternoon form, but I stayed put round the back of the field. I knew I was going to be in trouble for not signing in afternoon form and skipping afternoon lesson, but I really didn't care that much. I must have sat on the field for a full half an hour before I got incredibly bored- so got up and went for a walk around. I knew I was bound to get in trouble for being out of class, but I didn't care. I walked past a few teachers on a walk to try and find my P.E class. It was too late for me to get changed now so I would just have to watch, which I didn't mind doing. The teachers didn't question me, probably because I was normally a well behaved student and they thought I had a valued reason for being out of class and didn't need to ask me. I checked the fields, sports hall, gym and football pitch but the class was nowhere to be seen. I sort of gave up in the end, as the end of the school day was fast approaching, so made my way to reception but on the way I bumped into some girls form my P.E class. Obviously they fired questions at me, so I told them the truth. That Sophie was going to snitch me up for no apparent reason to Mr. Fotopoulos and Mrs. Carksy, and that I was outside because Sophie was spreading rumours about me and I couldn't bear to face them. They were actually the same girls that helped me back when I cut myself a few months before, so they understood and encouraged me to come back into class with them. It turned out I couldn't find the class because they had a cover lesson in a French classroom because our teacher was off sick. The girls explained to the teacher why I was late and the teacher told me to sit at the back with the girls, which I was grateful for as I didn't want anything to do with Sophie and Chloe who were at the front. We didn't do any work, I just spoke to them about what happened. I told them that Sophie had a go at Emily and Me and that's why I sent her a message asking why, but she twisted the words of the message and was going to tell Mrs. Carksy. The girls stuck up for me and made me feel better. I also explained how close Sophie was to her mum and that for sure her mum was going to spread rumours about me too. One of the girls looked straight at Sophie and said 'Well I will slap Sophie's mum right round her face then.' She said loudly, loud enough for Sophie to hear. Sophie didn't respond and carried on with her work, but Chloe looked round as if she was about to say something, before the same girl said, 'Go away Chloe, you weren't even there so don't go spreading nothing.'

'Yeah but I was there,' Sophie finally said.

This was when I fell silent. I didn't want Sophie to tell any of the popular girls the content of the message, as I knew I don't think I could ever come to school again if they did.

I told my mum that evening that I sent a message to Sophie and she was spreading it around the school, but I didn't tell them the content of the message. She agreed that I should stay off the next day while she sorted things out with the school. I was fine with that, considering Emily was off too so we just chatted all day. But at around midday, my mum got a phone call from the school. Sophie did show Mrs. Carksy and Mr. Fotopoulos the messages. And I was excluded for a week, for using the word 'Rape'.

I wasn't allowed back into school until I had had a proper psychological assessment on my mental health. I can understand it must have been a shock for the school. They'd probably never heard such words come from a student, let alone one that was so young- I had just turned 13 when I sent the message. I can remember going to see different phycologists and getting different assessments done on me. There was a lot of debating. The school were debating whether I had mental health problems, my parents were debating whether to put me in a special needs school as mainstream schooling wasn't working out and I was debating, myself whether It was ever going to get any better. I can remember that week I had off so clearly; I remember having a picture of Ms. Baker that I had printed off the internet. I would spend the whole day talking to the picture. Someone got the Mental Health Crisis team on me at one point, as they thought I was physically having a breakdown. I can vividly remember just sitting in my room rocking back and forth, back and forth.

Not many things had changed when I went back to school. No one spoke to me, nor did anything get put into place to help me and Ms. Baker. However, one change did happen. It was obvious now, that Me, Sophie, Emily and Chloe were no more. We split into twos, with Sophie and Chloe and me and Emily. My mum voiced this to the school, who were happy to move me into Emily's form, even though it was the last few weeks of Year 8. I started Emily's from, I think the day I got back from exclusion. I now had a new form tutor, Mr. Erasmus, who I liked a lot. He was also going to be my form tutor in year 9, and the form was going to stay exactly the same into the New Year. I didn't speak to Sophie after that. Or Chloe. I haven't really spoken to them face to face since to be honest. Me and Sophie are friends via Facebook and Twitter, and speak sometimes. I still think Sophie is a good person and a good friend, it just didn't work out between us. I have no connection at all with Chloe.

Year 8- The End of a Stressful Year

I wouldn't exactly say Year 8 ended on a high. Once I got back into school and got into the new routine of a new form, there was only 2 weeks left of term. I think me and Emily spent that 2 weeks laughing and slating Sophie and Chloe of behind their backs.

I can't remember what even started it off but one day I think I was feeling not only rebellious but also still angry with Sophie especially. I don't know why I directed the hate at Sophie especially, as Chloe was obviously the meaner one, but I think I was still annoyed that she snitched me up to the heads of year and got me excluded. Whilst feeling like this, I wanted revenge. I remember going to her D.T class to stand outside. I wanted to go and speak to her, face her. But spotting the classes' coats and bags hanging up in the cloakroom outside, I had a better idea. Spotting Sophie's blazer straight away, I went through it, turfing out all the content in the pockets. I turfed until I found the item I had been intending to take. I grabbed her house keys and smiling myself, took them straight to the Year 8 girl's toilets. I felt unpredictable, I didn't know what I was capable of. However, I did go into the toilets and put them down one of them. Laughing at myself and feeling a mixed rush of adrenaline and nerves I ran out of the girl's toilet and back to class.

There was also another incident round the corner- The week before the end of term there was a trip to a theme park on the coast for all students who had been well behaved. I was quite shocked that I was still allowed to go, but the money and everything was paid before and I don't even think the school thought much about it. It was just me and Emily then. We were a pair. I remember being slightly nervous about going on the trip so Mrs. Carksy came to speak to me before about it. She put me in my Science teacher's group as I got on with her really well. We had a good time, although there was a lot of miss communication. My Science teacher, Miss McGuire wasn't very clear on the times we had to meet her back at the coach. The other part of our group said we had to meet back at the coach at 3, which made sense as we were due to get into school at 4. We mostly spend the day just the two of us, maybe immaturely, laughing and talking behind the backs of Sophie and Chloe. At 3, we pulled ourselves together and made our way back to the coach. We were surprised on the way back that we saw no one from our school making the way back to the coach. We actually thought we were early. Once we got back to the coach, we saw Mrs. Carksy, Mr. Fotopoulos and a load of other teachers waiting outside. As soon as she saw us, Mrs. Carksy charged over to us, shaking with rage. 'Where have you to been?!' she asked, literally spitting in our faces.

'We were sort of... over there.' Emily said, nervously pointing to where we had just come from.

'Well why didn't you meet Miss McGuire? She was looking everywhere for you. Why Emily?' She shouted at her.

'I don't know, we didn't know the time.' Emily shrugged.

'It's not good enough is it Emily' She said.

At this point, she was completely rounded on Emily. Maybe it was because in the past few weeks she has learnt maybe how autistic I really was, and was trying to be softer on me. She only acted like I was there when she made her final statement; 'You've kept the whole of year 8 and the whole of year 10 waiting for 45 minutes! Both of you,' she said, looking at me. 'Get on the coach.' She said, pointing to the coach next to us, which was full of our year group looking out the window. We climbed on the coach and took the two seats near the front, as there were the only ones left.  'Where have you two been?' Asked a girl we were quite friendly with 'we left at 2 in the end. We got half way down the A12 before anyone realized you two weren't on the coach!' 'You left without us?!' I asked, shocked a register wasn't done before they had left. 'Yeah.' She said, 'I was the one who was like "Where's Hannah and Emily?" Mrs. Carksy like had a fit.'

Annoyingly enough, Mrs. Carksy came and sat in front of us and spent the whole duration of the journey back calling various people, saying 'Yes, I've got them. Don't worry, they are in big trouble.' And 'Yes, I've got them. Yeah, I can't believe they have done it either.' Me and Emily had great joy of spending the journey home making rude hand signals behind her back. As we got nearer the school, Mrs. Carksy turned round in her seat to talk to us, 'You're banned from the science trip the day before the end of term. You will also have a meeting with the headmaster tomorrow. I can't believe you've done this.' She then turned to me, focusing on me. 'And as if you haven't been in enough trouble recently.' I didn't argue back. I wasn't actually planning to go on the science trip anyway, so it looked like a day off school as the rest of the year group were going.

When we got back to the school, word had got around that me and Emily had kept everyone waiting, and a parent even had the right to say to us, 'You have really have ruined it for everyone haven't you girls?' I ended up arguing with another teacher, who was just being annoying, telling me that I shouldn't have done this and that. My mum was annoyed when she picked me up, especially as the head of special needs was on the trip and hadn't said anything to me. She didn't blame me, she said that the school knew I had special needs and that they should of looked after me better. And with my mental health declining and with Mrs. Carksy and her crew knowing exactly what an end to a year I had just had, what did they expect? My mum had a quiet word with Mr. Fotopoulos, who seemed to be about the only calm adult around. He then came and spoke to me and Emily civilly. He seemed like a really nice man, I thought. Especially as he didn't know me very well yet, he had just heard a lot of stuff about me. I thought next year would be great with him as a head of year- but I didn't have a clue what a year we would have together.

Me and Emily literally shook in fear the next morning as we both waited to have a meeting with the headmaster. Oddly enough, after all the trouble I caused at St James's whilst I was there, I only twice found myself in front of the head master. "Big Fotopoulos" called me and Emily both in together and explained to us that we were banned from school trips until future notice for 'foolish behaviour.'

Year 9- Clearing Things Up

I started year 9 in high spirits. It was nice that I didn't have to change form tutor or form room, I always liked a bit of continuity. I was happy to be in that form, I thoroughly liked Mr. Erasmus, he made me and Emily laugh a lot, as well as being a really nice person. It was obvious me and Emily were two of his favourites; as we just sat there and did as we were told. The good kids. The rest of the form wasn't exactly thrilled to have me in there, as I had never been the most popular kid, and especially now mostly everyone new about Ms. Baker, to a lot of the other students I was just the 'Crazy lesbian in year 9.' But I had Emily, so didn't really care.

I always enjoyed getting our timetables at the beginning of the year. I always enjoyed seeing what teachers I would have for the year ahead. It was a sad to say goodbye to Miss Harris at the end of Year 8, because normally a different year brings different teachers. Of course I was hoping for Ms. Baker- oh that would be a dream. But dreams are normally something you think about a lot but don't actually happen. And also, I knew after what happened last year, I wouldn't be allowed near her. Surprisingly enough I didn't have Ms. Baker for English. But I was very pleased to have Mr. Erasmus for maths, as well as a form tutor. I also had the same Science teacher that I had last year, which I was pleased about. I was also happy I had Maths with Emily, and strangely English as well. Emily had dyslexia and my level of reading and writing was higher than hers. We were both in Miss Harris's last year, although that was mixed ability. I enjoyed English and got one of the highest grades in my set last year with Miss Harris, so was a bit disappointed that I was most likely in bottom set, but didn't care that much. But I was about too.

I wasn't overly fond of the English teacher that I had, Ms. Allen was the head of English and has just seemed one of those people throughout my St James's life that hasn't known me very well, but knew very well of the situation was in, and I felt she automatically judged me on that. I think from the end of Year 8 onwards she ever spoke to me in a nice way. And our first English lesson was no acceptation. We were lining up outside her class, as she walked up the line checking our names with the register. Everyone was fine until she got to me. She didn't speak to me, she simply looked from the register up to my face. Still not looking at me, she pointed at me with her pen. 'You. You're not here. Your down there,' she said, now waving her pen towards....no... she was waving her pen towards Ms. Bakers class. And surely enough there was a load of students waiting outside it, from my year, including Sophie and Chloe.

'I'm with...' I started, my heart started to beat fast.

'Ms. Williams, Room 66, Go, Now.' She said, sharply.

'Miss W- No, I'm here it says I'm here.' I said

'Timetables are wrong. GO!' She snapped, which made me jump.

'Stupid Timetables!' I shouted back at her, turning around towards the door and storming off in the opposite direction. On the way out, I bumped into Sophie's friends the two boys who questioned me about the messages a few months back. One of them bumped into me on purpose, saying 'Guess who I have got? Ms. Baker, haha.' He said, immaturely, before carrying on down the corridor to join the line for Ms. Baker's. I hated change more than anything. I had planned to be in Emily's class and now I was being shoved in a class that I didn't even know the teacher of or anything. I walked around the school a couple of times, trying to get my head round everything. So Ms. Baker was teaching a set. Judging Sophie's intelligence, that was top set, whereas Emily's was obviously bottom set. So that just left one set left, middle set, which must be my proper set. It sounded about right, to be honest and at some point I had to settle in at some point. Besides, if I tried really hard... I might get moved up... To Ms. Baker's. And with that plan in mind, I strolled back to my English room. 'Sorry,' I said to Ms. Williams as I walked in, 'I was with....' I said, waving my hand towards the door, 'M... Mr. Fotopoulos.' She accepted my apology and I settled down. But yes, I wasn't planning on staying there for long.

I was as excited as I probably ever had been, when Ms. Williams announced that a few people would be moving up in January. January seemed like an eternity away- but it would give me the opportunity to really try hard in class and on homework, to try and get a high grade. I poured hours into my English homework, trying to make my writing as creative and as accurate as possible. My homework's always got high marks and high praise from Ms. Williams. It didn't take me long to tell her about my plan, that I was trying really hard so I could move up to Ms. Baker's in January. I hadn't however, ran this past my new head of year, Mr. Fotopoulos, or indeed Ms. Baker herself. I decided it was time for a bit of action. Yes, I had done lots of wrong in the past. But this is a new year, a new start, and a time for me to start making amends for people I had hurt in the past, starting with Ms. Baker. I planned with Emily, to go and see Ms. Baker to say sorry and everything. I wasn't going to say anything about getting into her English set, as I didn't want to sound like I was just saying sorry because of that. I had a master plan.

I went to give my apologies to Ms. Baker at the end of September of the new term. I didn't say anything to Mr. Fotopoulos as I thought he might say I wasn't allowed, although that was difficult in itself as they both taught English and their rooms were next door. I went to see her at break time with a speech all lined up in my head. I went with Emily by my side. We kind of crept down the empty corridor, so no one would notice we were sneaking down there. Mrs. Carksy also taught English, so there was two people who could possibly try and stop me from seeing Ms. Baker. But luckily, we reached the end of the corridor, unscathed. Her door was open and I could see her in there, but didn't go in there straight away. I was shaking- not only was I having a proper conversation with her, but I was also saying sorry. Amid all my nerves, it was no surprise that I forgot my speech. Instead, I just improvised. Still standing in her doorway, I spoke, 'Miss, can I speak to you?'

She looked up at me. 'Of course,' she said, I think I must have given a sigh of relief before she said 'But it'll have to be quick as I'm on duty,'

'Yeah it will be quick,' I said, trying to hurry up the conversation a little. 'I just wanted to say I'm sorry for everything that I done last year... the card and everything'

'Oh,' she said straightening up as if she had forgotten any such thing. 'That's ok, I know it's tough. Are you feeling better now?' She asked

'Yes,' I said, incredibly happy that she asked. 'And I just wanted to add, that I don't feel that way anymore about you.' It was a lie, but it was working well for me. I did feel about her, so much. Seeing her face smile, made my day.

'Oh, that's good,' She said, sounding slightly relived. 'And it takes a lot of courage to come and say sorry and not a lot of people would do it, so thank you, Hannah.' She said, smiling.

'Well done,' Said Emily, on our way back up the English corridor, 'I knew you could do it.'

Just as she finished speaking, our head of year turned a corner and was walking towards us. I had to tell him now. I was so excited with myself. I think I was so happy that I went bounding up too him, 'Sir, Sir! I said sorry to Ms. Baker sir!'

He looked at me, frowning slightly. 'Did you?'

'Yes and she really appreciated it. Go and ask her if you want sir, she's down there.'

Predictably, I saw him head straight to Ms. Baker's room. But I wasn't worried, I had nothing to hide.

So step one, was complete. To talk to and give my apologies to Ms. Baker, but the next step was to actually find out if it was possible to move up due to my past. And just the man to speak about that with, was Mr. Fotopoulos. We had quite a good relationship to start off with, me and Mr. Fotopoulos. He regularly engaged in conversations with me and Emily in the corridors or on his rounds of the Year 9 form rooms in the morning. I often went to talk to him if I had a problem and even a couple of times, when Emily wasn't in, spent my lunchtimes with him because I had no one else to speak too. So I had no issue going to have a chat with him about my potential move to Ms. Baker's. I managed to speak to him quickly at break time while he was on duty. 'Hi, sir,' I said, approaching him. I never really called him sir to be respectful, I just couldn't be bothered to say 'Mr. Fotopoulos' every time I spoke to him. 'Hi girls,' he said, as me and Emily approached him.

'Look, we...or I, was just wandering, whether if I get the grades that is expected, I can move up to top set with Ms. Baker in January because Ms. Williams said I could if I got the grades.

'I'm sure it will be fine Hannah,' He said, 'As It's all been sorted out now hasn't it?'

So this should be simple, I thought. Or Not.

Year 9- The Trouble with Year 7s

I did everything with Emily. Although I was in a few more different classes as we had a different academic ability, we were as close as anything. We both had Maths, Drama, Music, Art and P.E together which I was happy enough about as Drama and P.E are subjects where you especially need a friend as there is a lot of group work. The other subjects, however I felt quite alone in. Although it didn't really matter as I just put my head down and got on with the work. The only downside of this friendship was when Emily didn't come in for whatever reason. Emily's mum was a slight soft touch and Emily was often off because she had a cold or something, whereas if I had a cold I had to get on with it. On these days I had to spend lunch times with my sister and her friends, who I got on quite well with but there's nothing uncooler than spending a lunch with a bunch of Year 7s. I either did that, or I spend my lunch time with Mr. Fotopoulos, which I honestly did do a couple of times. I would stand with him on his duty post and he would happily talk to me for ages. And if I had drama or P.E when Emily wasn't in he would let me sit in his classroom instead of going to that lesson. We got on really well.

Although it couldn't be that far into year 9 until a new issue started. Me and Emily had gained some new followers. My sister had started year 7 that year and me and Emily often hung around with them, for some extra company. But it wasn't just my sister's friends who seemed to attach themselves to us. There seemed to be a few more year 7 girls, who liked us. I clicked to them straight away because most of them were in Ms. Baker's year 7 form group. And anyone who was in association with Ms. Baker, I enjoyed the company of. Me and Emily even made up names for them all. It was a happy time, the head of year 7 at the time even commented that I was like Snow White as I walked around the school with a bunch of year 7's walking behind me. As I was quite tall and all the year 7s seemed to be quite small, it probably did look like I was Snow White with seven dwarfs following me around. Most of them thought I was amusing as I was quite loud and talkative and would make jokes and slate off the teachers I didn't like, which gave the newcomers quite joy. Emily was like my sidekick in the whole situation and would laugh along with me and sometimes make a comment, but mostly I was the leader.

I don't even know what started the whole thing off, I just remember getting into a few arguments with the girls in Ms. Baker's form. I was probably more jealous than anything. I knew the girls before they started St James's because they all went to the same primary school as I did. One of them, who I had the arguments with first had a younger brother who was best friends with my younger brother. I can't even remember arguing with the first girl much and I think I settled down with her after a while, it was more the second one that I had more arguments with. She was quite mouthy, which was surprising really as I wouldn't dare mouth of to a year 9 I didn't know very well when I started in year 7. Not many year 7's would. I think she found it almost grotesque that I 'fancied' her middle-aged form tutor. I remember having a shouting match with her at one time, she was shooting not-very-insulting insults in my direction, insults that I had only ever heard loads of times before. I then, of course, shot some in her direction. I remember calling her 'windswept' as she always had windswept hair as the October wind seemed to get the better of it. I was either spotty or stressy. Whichever she preferred at the time really. I wasn't really that stressy I was probably just quite over emotional at times. Especially when it concerned her form tutor.

I had a good relationship with Ms. Baker after I went to say sorry to her. I think I must have said Hi to her at least twice a day, mainly so she wouldn't forget my name or who I was. I would make random issues up and would go and speak to her, just to get her attention. Maybe that's why I started to get into arguments with random year 7s. Maybe it's because I just wanted Ms. Baker's attention, not theirs.

I think it wasn't long after I started to have these arguments with Windswept, it started to escalate. I think she was insulting Ms. Baker at the time I lost it. Or maybe she was questioning my likeness for her, saying she was old, ugly etc. Suddenly something just clicked in me. I had had so much stress before and indeed I would have stress after but it would be the only time I reacted like I did to a fellow student. Without warning, I grabbed Emily's full purse that was jammed with coins and threw it. At her face. I still remember her face when the purse hit her. I had never lashed out before, at anyone and suddenly I was throwing things at Year 7s. I suppose I felt a bit guilty, but too be honest I was more worried that she was going to go and tell Ms. Baker that I threw the purse at her. I didn't want Ms. Baker to think badly of me, let alone a bully who chucked purses into the faces of 11 year olds. I remember I sat biting my nails in all last lesson waiting for Mr. Fotopoulos or someone of similar hierarchy to come and have a go at me for bullying year 7s, but no one did. But that's St James's for you. Nothing really gets done at all. It never had.
Year 9- 'I Will Call The Police.'

After are arguments with Sophie and Chloe, both me and Emily had a massive hate for both of them. We didn't talk to each other at all and diverted eyes when we walked past them. Although oddly enough, I was still incredibly annoyed with Sophie. I think now it was just because I think I was so upset to lose her as a friend I was more annoyed about the whole situation. The other reason why I was so angry with Sophie at the time was because she had Ms. Baker for English. Insanely jealous, I thought back to last year when it was so obvious that Ms. Baker liked her more, even though in the end Ms. Baker did talk to me and she did know my name. But this didn't stop me from being jealous, and I felt almost violent about it. It was all coming back from the year before, when I made constant plans to kill Ms. Baker's husband. I never wanted to kill Sophie, but I made a decision. I would fight her for Ms. Baker.

I don't even know what made me do it. I don't think there was any triggers or nor did anyone annoy me that day, I just remember feeling annoyed or the time. Or obsessive. I wanted Ms. Baker so much. I didn't know how, or why or anything. Confusion fueled my brain along with anger. I remember leaving her a message on her website. When we were that age we had this website thing that let you create your own little website. I loved it and created like 10 whilst I was in Year 8 and Year 9. It was quite a popular tool for our age, although the website has shut down now. With nothing fuelling me to write a hate-filled message, I did anyway. I don't know what was in the message fully, I can only remember one part of it, but it was the most damaging. 'You touch Ms. Baker and I will put you in hospital.' Of course I wasn't going to put her in hospital. All I had ever violently done in life was chuck a purse at a year 7. I was in no place to threaten anyone. But I sent it all the same. I shouldn't have done it and I regretted it later. It definitely was a wakeup call.

I don't remember how the news got to me. I think Sophie showed the message to Mr. Fotopoulos (again) although it was really none of his business as it happened outside of school, but putting that aside he wasn't the only one to find out. I think it must have been Mr. Fotopoulos who called my mum up one evening when I got home from school, it was probably the day after I sent it in the first place. It was a common occurrence, my mum had had some painful calls from the school in the past and would have plenty in the future. But I remembered it seemed to be a long one and my mum came off the phone with some bad news. Sophie had shared the threat with Chloe and Chloe had shared it with her mum. Chloe's mum however, decided that actions needed to be taken and had spoken to Mr. Fotopoulos saying that she would call the police. Apparently in her words, I was a threat to her daughter. Now I look back, I find the whole situation humorous. Chloe was the girl who was racist about my German family, threatened to beat me up on one or two occasions and was pretty horrible to me half the time. But apparently her mum thought she was in danger, even though the threat wasn't even made to her and infact it was none of Chloe's business. At school a lot of people threatened each other and people had fights, whether Chloe's mum knew this or not I don't know, but she seemed out to get me.

I was genuinely worried. I had never been in that sort of situation before. I had never really been in trouble before, apart from the time that I sent those messages to Sophie before. I do understand, now, how bad it was to write something like that and I wasn't a horrible person. I just... was finding it hard to cope.

My mum hesitated about sending me into the school next day as she worried for my safety in a way, and she didn't know how angry Chloe's mum would be. Would she be waiting at the school gates to have a go at me? Poor Mr. Fotopoulos completely got dragged into it, probably unnecessarily. I was even angrier with Sophie than before for getting me into trouble again, even though she may not have intended to. On the contrary, her and her mum seemed quite calm about the situation. If it was anyone making the fuss, it should have been them.

I was quite worried about facing them the next morning. It must have been a Wednesday as we had an assembly that morning. Nothing was said until the end of the assembly when Mr. Fotopoulos was about to finish the year assembly up before he said, 'Oh can Hannah Barlett stay behind afterwards, please.' As predicated, most of the year group then swiveled on their chairs to turn to look at me. It was all rather embarrassing but I did expect it. Mr. Fotopoulos looked hot and flustered when he came over and spoke to me at the back of the assembly tall. I honestly think I was on the verge of tears. There stood my head of year, having a go at me. Well, he didn't exactly have a go at me. But he was serious with me. It was the first time really I had been told off face to face by a teacher. He even said, 'Don't do this again. Because if you do I will have to start handing out after school detentions and I don't want to do that.' It was one thing that I was being told off, but another thing that I was being threatened with an after school detention. I hadn't had one of those before. I was shocked by his words, but was relieved when he told me that Chloe's mum, kindly enough, decided not to call the police. I remember feeling wobbly as I walked out of the assembly hall to Emily and two other girls who we were quite friendly with sometimes, I could see Sophie and Chloe in the distance. I quickly told Emily and the other girls what Mr. Fotopoulos had said, the other girls were shocked considering they didn't hear the full story. One of the girls shot a dirty look at Sophie and Chloe and said, 'Why would you even do that?'

'It wasn't me...' Sophie persisted, 'It was....' 'You can ruin people's lives for doing stupid things like that. Imagine if the police had been called?'

Which was true. Things like that could ruin people's lives. The most awkward thing being that the next assembly the community police officer came in and spoke to us all about sending threatening messages over the internet. Both Sophie and Chloe shot me several dirty looks during the assembly.

Year 9- A More Distant Obsession

Even though I was at a high point with Ms. Baker- I couldn't wish for much more, I didn't even want to touch her. Well, I probably did, but I just had self-control. I was still obsessed with her, but hadn't forgotten Miss Harris.

My obsession, from the start with Miss Harris had been different from Ms. Baker. For one, as I was in her English class, I had no reasons to send her cards and use other drastic ways to get her attention, as if I wanted to have a conversation with her, I just could. But it was harder in year 9, when I was no longer in her class. She often smiled at me when we was walking in the corridors, so I didn't think she had forgotten me already. One day, I remember feeling particularly obsessed with her, and I felt like I just had to see her- I had to speak to her. I remember we had a random cover teacher in fourth lesson, I think he was covering maths or drama or something odd, so me and Emily took the opportunity and simply walked out of his classroom on a quest to go and speak to Miss Harris- it was a bit random and out of the blue if I'm honest I just simply felt like it.

On the way to her English room, I first had to think about what I was actually going to say to her. I don't think I discussed it with Emily, I just played it back in my head. I came to a quick idea- stationary. Everyone asked English teacher's for stationary, because everyone knew they had a stash of stationary. I suppose I probably was a bit over excited and probably made a bit too much noise as I walked into the English block with Emily. Miss Harris's room was the first door of the English corridor and it was open. Still excited with myself, and Emily by my side, I knocked. But she looked back at me with a highly irritated look on her face, 'Shush,' she said, pointing to her class that were all reading quietly. The way she spoke to me then make me lose all my confidence, and I started to shake. 'Well, Mr.... Drama cover, over there,' I said, pointing to the wall as I wasn't really concentrating. 'Do you have a sha- stapler?'

She shook her head.

I think that if I had gone over the plan a bit better, and said that Ms. Baker or Mrs. Carksy needed a stapler, the conversation might have been more successful, as not many teachers would lend their stapler to someone called 'Mr. Drama Cover,' as it didn't seem very reliable. But that didn't stop me from feeling angry and upset when I stormed out of the English block.

'She hates me!' I exclaimed to Emily.

'I'm sure she doesn't... but maybe you could say sorry? For... knocking on her door too loudly?' She replied

But the more I put it over in my head the more it sounded stupid- but that only gave me another idea.

'Emily!' I said, grabbing her arm. 'I'll send her a card, tell her how I feel!' I glanced at my watch, 'Come on, we've still got half an hour left of this crappy lesson, lets write it now!'

So we went to go and sit at the back of the cover lesson to write out a card for Miss Harris. Emily wrote it out for me, as her handwriting and general presentation of work was so much better than mine. She also helped me write it out. I can't really remember what was in the card, but I remember the first sentence was, 'I think you are very pretty and nice,' which Emily said might be a good idea to write. I also said how I felt about her and that I thought she hated me for knocking on her door too loud. I thought it was quite a reasonable card- Emily even decorated the front for me. I thought it was quite a nice, well-meaning card. One man, however, did not.

As Miss Harris had kind of shattered my confidence when I last spoke to her I felt less confidence when I gave the card to Ms. Baker. I didn't feel like I could give it to her myself, so I had a long chat with the learning mentor, Mrs. Benedict about it. I had been seeing her twice a week and sometimes more since the end of year 8. I deeply valued her time and didn't realize how much I missed having someone that I could talk too when I left St James's. Apart from her, I've never really had someone I could trust since. Well, I say trust. A lot of the things I told her she had to pass onto higher authority as it was for mine and whoever else it concern's safety. However higher authority 90% of the time meant Mr. Fotopoulos. I explained to Mrs. Benedict that I had a card to give to Miss Harris. I think we had a long chat about it and in the end she agreed she would give it to Miss Harris for me. I was so happy that I didn't have to do it, and that she was going to do it for me. However, the card went nowhere near Miss Harris and went straight into the hands of Mr. Fotopoulos.

I was absolutely devastated that Mr. Fotopoulos got his hands on the card. I was livid with Mrs. Benedict for lying to me about it. If she said she couldn't have possibly given the card to Miss Harris, I would have understood and found another way to give it to her. However, I did not appreciate her saying she would give it to Miss Harris and to instead to give it to Mr. Fotopoulos, because besides from lying, it was actually private. And I knew he was nosy, and I knew he would have a good read of the card before he thought about how to deal with it. He was a man as well, and I always think that women can understand my feelings so much better than men. However, he knows the content of the messages that I sent Sophie in year 8, so I'm not sure much more could surprise him.

Unlike when I sent the card to Ms. Baker, it didn't take me long for someone to come and talk to me about it. Mr. Fotopoulos came to interrupt my Design and Technology lesson, a lesson which, I have to admit I didn't enjoy in the slightest. He took me next door to our D.T room, in an empty classroom, where he sat down on a stool.

'Right, do you know why we are here?' He said.

'Because of Miss Harris sir?' I asked, as I knew what it was about.

He sighed greatly before saying, irritably, 'Hannah you have to stop with your cards.' He said it as if I made one of these 'cards' every other week.

'What are you even talking about sir? I never make cards like that.'

'What about Ms. Baker? Last Year?' He asked

'Oh,' I said, my heart dropping slightly, 'You knew about that?'

He looked at me as if I was stupid.

'Of Course,' He said.

I started to think back to the card I sent in year 8 and all the content that was in it and started to feel slightly embarrassed as well as irritated. 'Well no one came and spoke to me about it, so how was I supposed to know not to do it again?'

'Nobody spoke to you? Not Mrs. Benedict or Mrs. Carksy?' He asked

'No, sir. Mrs. Carksy and her gang were nowhere to be seen actually.' I replied.

He smiled slightly. 'Well that's our fault for not speaking to you, but it's not the learning mentor's job to be passing love notes around the school for you.'

I rolled my eyes, starting to get up.

'Oh, and this doesn't mean I hate you.' He added, smiling, referring to what I put in the card to Miss Harris about her hating me.

He may not of hated me, but I don't think I was particularly liked him at that moment in time. Before he left the room, I ran after him to ask him, 'Sir, does Miss Harris know about this?'

'No,' He replied, 'I will speak to her about it at break though, as she has a right to know'.

I think I spent that entire break time with Emily, waiting outside the English block waiting for the bell to go so I could speak to Mr. Fotopoulos. I needed to give him time to speak to Miss Harris before I could ask him what she said. I wasn't sure what I was expecting really. As soon as the bell went I darted into the English block, swerving my way through students getting to their classes, until I got to Mr. Fotopoulos's room. His door was open, and he was on his phone, playing a game. This wasn't a common occurrence, as whenever I and Emily saw him on his phone, he was playing the same game.

'Mr. Fotopoulos, Sir!' I said loudly knocking on his door.

'Hmm,' he replied still concentrating on his phone.

'Sir!' I said, probably a tad more aggressively that time.

He finally looked up from his phone. 'What?' he asked, as equally as irritable as I was.

'Did you speak to Miss Harris, sir?' I asked.

'Yes,' He said, calmly.

'Oh what did she say then?! What did she say?' I asked, jumping up and down.

Mr. Fotopoulos took a deep breath and said, 'Look, Hannah, she's not very happy about it, but she won't get angry with you about it.' I stopped in mid jump. I stared at him. He stared at me back. I wasn't expecting that answer. I remember then turning and running all the way to my next lesson, not even stopping for Emily to catch up. Looking back, I know I had done wrong by sending her the card, but I had no clue what Mr. Fotopoulos said to Miss Harris. He might have even stirred it up a bit. Who knows?

So there was no Miss Harris. But I had not given up on the thought of being in Ms. Baker's set. I poured constant hours into my English homework, all of which got high praise from Ms. Williams. I was so close....

Year 9- A New Set

Christmas came quite quickly in Year 9. I had quite a good term despite the whole purse throwing incident and the fact that the police were almost after me. I was even confident enough to take part in the schools Christmas concert- something I wouldn't of done in a million years before. I wasn't doing solo or anything, our music class were preforming a song so I decided to sing with them, as Emily was too. You also got a day out of class to practice which was a bonus. I think we spent most of the concert at the back of the school hall were all the acts sat, in hysterics of laughter and tacking the mick out of Sophie and Chloe. I was on a high in life. But moving up to Ms. Baker's English class was still something that was at the top of my agenda. I had spoken to Mr. Fotopoulos and Ms. Baker, so that wasn't an issue. All I had to do was get the grade, right? Wrong.

It's hard to think, now, how I felt about Ms. Baker just before I moved up to her set. I think I was half obsessed with her and half obsessed with the situation, which was the case with many things post this point. I was obsessed with her, yes, but a lot of the times I think I was obsessed with the situation I was in. This probably doesn't make any sense now, but it will do later on.

I didn't really think about anything else, other than getting the high enough grades to get into top set. I think, when I received my end of term result for English, I must have shouted at the top of my voice, 'Yes! 5.3!' I was even more excited when Ms. Williams said anyone with over a 5.0 will be moving up. I was in a hyped up state for the rest of the lesson and couldn't wait to go and speak to Ms. Williams at the end of the lesson. As soon as the bell went, the class cleared quickly as it was the end of the school day, but I bounded up to Ms. Williams, and trying hard to contain my excitement, said 'So I'm moving up Miss!'

'No, two of the other girls in the class are going to move up.'

'But... what grade did they get?'

'The same as you,' she replied. She then told me who was moving up.

'But they misbehave? This is really out of order, you know how much I've been trying to move up.'

She looked at me and sighed slightly, and went over to close the door of the classroom. 'I've been meaning to talk to you Hannah. We had a meeting- Me, Ms. Baker, Mr. Fotopoulos and Ms. Allen- the head of English, and well.... They don't think it's a good idea for you to move up, due to the feelings of the top set teacher.' She said.

'What? Ms. Baker hates me!' I said, my excitement almost turning into hysterics.

'No, I'm sure that's not it.' She said

'It was Mr. Fotopoulos wasn't it?' I asked

'It's got nothing to do with Mr. Fotopoulos,' she said, trying to keep calm.

'But you just said he was there. I know it was him.' I said, feeling angry and let down, I bid goodbye to Ms. Williams and left the room. I felt so frustrated, I know for a fact that Mr. Fotopoulos said it would be no issue for me to move up. But he lied. He lied to me. I angrily charged down the English corridor towards his room, but he wasn't in there. I even felt angry with Ms. Baker- although over the head of English and my head of year she probably had now power at all, but I checked her room but it was empty as well. I was fuming. This wasn't over yet. There were a few reasons why Mr. Fotopoulos decided that I couldn't move up to Ms. Baker's. I think I almost forgot that I said to Sophie that I would put her in hospital if she went near Ms. Baker, as well as the fact that Mr. Fotopoulos could probably see I was unstable as I sent the card to Miss Harris. However, no one came to speak to me about it. They left it up to Ms. Williams to tell me, probably because she was mutual in the situation. Either way, it still wasn't right.

It didn't take long for me to go and track down Mr. Fotopoulos the next morning, but this time I had several complaints to talk to him about, not just the English class one. I went to see him at the start of morning break, with Emily yet again by my side. I saw him standing outside his room, locking his door. I approached him nosily. 'Sir!' I said loudly. 'I need to talk to you about something, it's about.... 'I started but he interrupted me.

'Has your mum spoken to you this morning?' He asked.

'I don't think so,' I replied, confused.

Huffing and puffing, he said, 'Come in' and unlocked his room and invited me and Emily inside. 'I spoke to your mum this morning,' He said, 'And she agrees with me that you can move up to Ms. Baker's.'

'Oh thanks, sir!' I squealed at the top of my voice.

'That's ok.' He said. 'Shall we go and check with Ms. Baker now to see if that's ok?'

'Yeah sure sir.' I said, following him back out of the classroom towards Ms. Baker's class, but she wasn't in there.

'I know where she is, sir,' I started. I knew exactly where she was. I knew where she was every time she was on duty.

'She's outside the library sir. Like every Wednesday.'

He gave me a strange look, and I already knew I was pushing my luck, so decided to stop talking there.

We had a little meeting with Ms. Baker outside the library so she didn't have to leave her duty post, she seemed more than happy to have me in her class, which I was very happy with and it showed that maybe Ms. Williams's words 'due to the feelings of the top set teacher' were just code for 'Mr. Fotopoulos said.' But there were certain conditions. 'I've spoken to Hannah's mum,' he told Ms. Baker, 'and we agreed that it's for a trial period.' He then turned to look at me. 'Seriously Hannah, three strikes then you're out.'

That was fair enough, three strikes. But it only took one.

I thought January was the start of things to come. It was- but only lasted for a while. I went back into school after the Christmas break, feeling happy about the move to Ms. Bakers. Now I think back, for the first term I don't think anything happened because I was too focused on that. I was so glad I got my own way, not to find out it was going to backfire later on.

I was so nervous walking down to Ms. Baker's for the first time. Emily offered to come with me, but I didn't want her to get into any more trouble. This is what I had been thinking about since Year 8- being in Ms. Baker's class. However, I was so nervous about going to her class that I checked in with Mr. Fotopoulos beforehand, hoping that he would come with me without me having to ask him and sure enough he jumped straight to it and walked with me to her classroom. When we got there, her class were nosily settling down to their seats, getting all their books out, etc. I instantly got a dirty look from Chloe when I walked into the classroom, but I think I even smiled back at her. After everything that had happened, I was finally with Ms. Baker. It was a couple of minutes before she saw Mr. Fotopoulos and me standing in doorway. 'Oh, Hi,' She said when she noticed us. She asked me if I had a good Christmas break, before asking where I wanted to sit, or rather said 'who are you friends with in here? Maybe I can sit you next to them?' .Of course, she was just trying to be nice although I couldn't bring myself to tell her that I didn't know anyone in the class that I was remotely friendly with, but I had to improvise. 'I sort of know him,' I said, waving my hand towards the back of the class. I knew him because he was Emily's cousin and he spoke to us sometimes. I think Ms. Baker was about to agree before Mr. Fotopoulos decided to poke his nose in, a habit which he enjoyed doing towards the end of year nine. 'I don't think so. Not at the back. Not near...' He didn't finish his sentence, but I knew he didn't want to be near Sophie. Looking back, the whole situation was quite amusing really, as the school were so desperate to keep me apart from Sophie, but ironically with the card and everything, there were no efforts to keep me away from Ms. Baker. 'How about here,' Ms. Baker eventually said, pointing to a desk.

'Yeah, I'll go there,' I said, enthusiastically. She pointed at a desk that was close to the front. So close to the front that it joined with her desk at the front- I was sitting directly in front of her. I found out, over time that being joined at her desk had the benefits. She always spoke to me during class, and whenever she took the register, she would always look straight into my eyes and smile when she said my name. She was so lovely and she didn't deserve what she got.

I was still obsessed with her, there was no mistaking that. Whenever I looked at her, whenever she spoke, I felt different. I gave her all my respect; although it seemed like I was the only one. The class was no different from Ms. Williams's, they were rowdy and quite rude. Ms. Baker was naturally a nervous person, never having much stamina or tone in her voice. She didn't speak quietly exactly, but she could never shout or talk over our loud class. I felt so bad for her, but I couldn't do much (although once I did turn round and tell the girls behind me to shut up as Ms. Baker was trying to speak) all I could do was behave in her class and not give her any trouble.

Year 9- Something to Smile About

It wasn't too long after I moved into Ms. Baker's set in January that something else happened, something that I had been wanting to happen but didn't expect to happen. It must have happened at the end of January. It was very short and sweet, but for me and him it was just the beginning.

I had known him quite well since year 8. His name was James and he had dated Chloe for ages last year when we were friends, so he often hung out with us. I thought he was quite nice I suppose, he never took the mick out of me for liking Ms. Baker and we got on generally well. I didn't really think much of him though. He broke up with Chloe before the end of year 8, although it was a bit of a pointless relationship too be honest. I think he kissed her cheek once but that was it. I know they were only 12 and 13 but me and Emily used to think it was ridiculous.

When I stopped being friends with Sophie and Chloe, he seemed to divide his time between me and Emily and Sophie and Chloe. I didn't really fancy him in any way, how could I? I liked two women already. Despite this, however he seemed to peruse something further than a friendship with me. We became quite close as I sat next to him at the back of Ms. Williams's English class at the beginning of Year 9, and even Ms. Williams commented once that we 'made a good couple.' We mostly sat at the back of the class talking as Ms. Williams had no control of the class and spent most of the time getting stressed out. She would even sometimes get stressed out with me and James as she was so stressed with everyone else. I remember sticking pins in the table with him. He also hung out with us a lunch sometimes. I saw the signs coming although I didn't know it then. Either he thought I was vulnerable and would do anything, or he didn't even know what he was talking about himself, as some of the things he said and did were a bit odd. It must have been when we were still in English together when he told me he had Asperger's Syndrome. I hadn't a clue and wouldn't have known unless he had told me, but a lot of people said that about me as well. But now I think back and think, yes, I can see how he has it now. It was really like I had found my soul mate, although we didn't have much in common really, apart from the fact that we'd rather stick pins in tables than listen to our teacher. It must have been after he told me this that we got a lot closer. I, at the time was vulnerable and someone, especially a boy that I liked could easily get me into doing anything. I remember once in English he said, 'Let me do this thing. If you touch this part right at the top of your leg it makes you laugh but hurts at the same time. But it doesn't work if you do it on yourself.' He said, as he saw me put my hand to try and do It myself. 'I have a skirt on,' I said, observantly, thinking that might be going a bit too far. 'I will have trousers tomorrow and you can try it then.' Even now I don't know whether this thing he did actually existed, or if he genuinely wanted to touch the inside of the top of my leg, which most people though he just wanted to do. Like promised, I came in in trousers the next day, and he attempted to do it at the back of the English classroom. If the class wasn't so rowdy and badly behaved and if Ms. Williams didn't look like she wanted to commit suicide with stress every time she entered the class someone might of noticed that he was touching the inside of my top right leg. I didn't even see it as anything sexual, I was genuinely excited to feel this feeling that he described to me before. Being my normal gullible self, I was surprised that I didn't feel anything. 'It works on everyone else,' He said.

I remember so clearly how we first started to be a couple. Because you always remember that, don't you? I didn't love him, I still had very strong feelings for Ms. Baker, but I thought I could force myself to love him. I think he asked me out over MSN messenger, a thing that was all the rage when I was 13. Of course I didn't decline and it seemed as I was the only girl in the year who hadn't had a boyfriend and I was slowly catching up with everyone else. We promised to keep it a secret and not tell anyone, as two of the unpopular geeks going out together made the popular kids quite excited actually.

It didn't last for long, sadly or not. Well, 4 days. I probably wouldn't have even put it in here if I didn't date him again a year later (which had a completely different outcome). I think word got round the school, quickly. I remember telling Emily that we were going out only because she was my best friend and that's what girls talked about it. It wouldn't be normal for a girl not too tell her friend something like that especially as I had spoken to her about it her before. I don't doubt, however that he told some of his friends as well.

It wasn't just that our year group was teasing us, there was a much deeper issue to contend with. I couldn't lie to him, although I don't think I told him straight to his face. Frankly, I liked Ms. Baker better than him. My feelings for her were twice as stronger for her than they were for him. I sort of felt odd being with him, because I knew it was her I really wanted to be with. I went from being with him at break or lunch to going into her English class and hating myself for being with him. I didn't love him, I think I wanted to so I could try and push Ms. Baker out of my mind. I think he tried to help me 'get over her.' I remember him once telling me that she was married to Mr. Fotopoulos. I didn't think this was true, but when he said 'I saw those holding hands in the English corridor the other day.' I started to believe it was true. There was only one way I could settle this, I thought. I had to go and speak to Mr. Fotopoulos, to try and straighten this whole thing out. I think I managed to get his attention whilst I was lining up for a cooking lesson. I walked over to him and asked if I could speak to him. He probably thought it was serious, as he took me aside from everyone else. I asked him straight, without messing about. 'Sir.' I said, 'Are you married to Ms. Baker?'

'What? God! Me? No!' He asked, as if I had just asked him if he had committed a murder. 'She's married,' He continued. 'But definitely not to me!'

'I thought so,' I said, turning round to go.

'Why would you ask?' He asked.

'Someone's been spreading stuff about you sir. I would go and beat them up if I where you.'

'Who's been saying what?' He asked, still sounding offended I asked him such a question.

Not wanting to get James into trouble I said I didn't know and left it at that.

I think I got in a bit of an emotional state about him. After we split, after a month or so of me sending him abusive emails, we forgave each other and started to get close. He was an odd child, and always thought about things too seriously. He always used to say too me. 'I like you in that way, a lot. But not enough to go out with you again.' He said it as we were about to get married, not two immature 13/14 year olds. He didn't seem to give up on me, so I didn't give up on him. I think we nearly got close again, but there was someone that was going to come along and push James to the limit.

One thing I remember him saying to me in September or so that year, 'I like you, but let's face it, and we will never be again...' That turned out to be all lies.

Year 9- A New Friend

It couldn't have been a few weeks after I split up with James that another part of my life began.

I went into form one afternoon with Emily and a new girl was sitting there. 'Who's that?' Emily asked me.

'Haven't a clue' I replied.

Me and Emily watched her for a while. She as quiet until she started to join in with the popular kids at the back of the classroom who were being loud. It all seemed a pretty normal form time until incredibly randomly, the girl lobbed a pen at our form tutor, Mr. Erasmus's head.

I immediately covered my mouth trying to stifle my laughter, along with Emily and other members of the class. We all had a mutual respect for Mr. Erasmus and no one had ever thrown anything at him before. I thought she was quite cool, her name was Charlotte. It didn't take us long to make friends with her. I remember we had P.E theory a few days after the pen throwing incident. I hated P.E but didn't mind P.E theory as all we did was write stuff out. But on this particular day our teacher, Miss Jordan, who I didn't get on with in the slightest said, 'Get into groups of four or five.' Commands like that were always a slight issue for me and Emily as there was always just two of us. Hoping we would get away with it we didn't make a fuss, but Miss Jordan saw us and came over to us. 'Groups of four or five, girls, I said.'

'But there is only two of us Miss,' I persisted. 'We don't like anyone else.'

'A group of three at least.' She said.

I looked around desperately as I knew we were on the verge of being split up and put into separate groups. But then I spotted Charlotte, on a table of her own with her head down. 'We will work with Charlotte miss, we know her she's in our form. Get her to come over. Or in fact, as we are that nice we will go over to her.' I said, gathering all my belongings and loudly dumping them on Charlotte's table. As I remember it just continued like that. Charlotte seemed to of attached herself to us, even though she could have easily fitted into the popular group. Everyone liked her. She travelled in from London on the train so was quite a lot tougher than everyone there really, some people were even scared of her. I liked the fact that she wasn't well behaved, it influenced me to do the same as she was in all my classes except English and Science. My behavior went downhill from there.

I was settling well into Ms. Baker's, but was starting to cause trouble round the school. Form and Maths especially, I started to pick on our form tutor. He seemed an easy target- never really getting annoyed with anyone. I couldn't understand Maths either, so I often talked to Charlotte or grabbed paper and just drew on it. I also sometimes got verbal to Mr. Erasmus, who often had to send me outside the room, or to Mr. Fotopoulos. Me and Mr. Fotopoulos's relationship had completely changed. I was, come mid-February constantly rude and abusive too him, along with Charlotte. Emily hung around with us but she didn't normally join in. Constantly I was getting into trouble with Mr. Fotopoulos, I was constantly spending my days in detention and isolation with him. My behaviour just generally round the school got bad also. P.E was another subject that me and Charlotte just couldn't be bothered with. Charlotte never brought her kit and I always refused to do it. Once we even ran off from the lesson, and spent the lesson walking around the school, only to literally to be chased by On-Call who were trying to find us. Me and Charlotte nicknamed the event the 'Mole in the Hole' as when we got back to the lesson our P.E teacher Miss Jordan asked 'What If you had fallen down a hole?'

'We would just get back up again.' Said Charlotte simply.

'What if you got kidnapped?' Miss Jordan asked.

'By who? A mole who lives in that hole you were going on about?'

I didn't like Miss Jordan in the slightest, she was really the first teacher I started having arguments with, even before Charlotte came.

I remember once, quite a way into our relationship, Charlotte encouraged me and Emily to do something we had never done before, something we never dared do: to run out the front gate, to run out the school in general. I knew my mum would kill me if I did, not to mention I would be in endless detentions with Mr. Fotopoulos. But the fact that I was feeling in a rebellious mood and the fact that I'd rather do anything than go to R.E, which was the next lesson, I agreed and Me, Emily and Charlotte ran out the gate with our blazers covering the back of our head, mainly so they couldn't see Emily's bright ginger hair. I can't remember going anywhere in particular, I can just remember watching Charlotte smoke on a park bench. I remember she offered me one, but I could never bring myself to smoke. We went back into school quite quickly afterwards. Emily, who was in a different R.E class, with a much softer teacher, decided to go back in straight away. But Emily could do that, for the fact she had a softer teacher and she was generally a good girl, and teachers would just accept if she was late in. I couldn't bear to face mine and Charlotte's teacher, Ms. Johnson. So me and Charlotte had a fun morning of running round the school, hiding in different classes and corners, trying to avoid teachers. A few of who questioned us, but I think we told them different stories, as they knew me and I was generally well behaved. We really did run for it though when we saw Mr. Fotopoulos heading our way with a walkie talkie. I managed to pull Charlotte into a corner under the stairs, hoping he wouldn't see to us. He actually walked right past our hiding place, but looked back to turn around and saw us there. He didn't shout, exactly but he did sound very annoyed. But I think I shouted at him, especially when he rounded on me. 'Your mum has been out everywhere looking for you,' He said, dabbing his Walkie talkie in my direction.

'Why is it always me? Whenever we get into trouble you always look at me and have a go at me first. You never even have a go at Charlotte.' Which was true.

I ended up with my first day full of detentions, a detention with Ms. Johnson for not going to her lesson, a detention with Mr. Erasmus at misbehaving in Maths and a detention after school with Mr. Fotopoulos for bunking. But I don't even think I went to Mr. Erasmus's detention and I had great joy in Mr. Fotopoulos's detention watch other girls from our year go through his draws and take turns spitting in his water bottle when he left the room.

In almost every lesson- and in fact, all the lessons I had with Charlotte our behaviour got worse and worse. In maths, there wasn't a day when me or Charlotte didn't get our names on the board, a popular discipline tac tic in English secondary schools. It usually resulted in us losing our break time. I was also spending increasing amount of times outside the classroom, with the head of maths or Mr. Fotopoulos if he wasn't teaching. In French; me and Charlotte behaved for our over eccentric and sometimes scary French teacher, Mrs. Loizou. But once every 2 weeks or so, we had my year 7 crush, Mr. Blanc. We had over 30 in our French class so there never seemed to be room for me and Charlotte to sit at a table. Usually we sat behind this giant red stand out of sight and half the time I don't think Mr. Blanc even knew we were there. We usually just sat on Charlotte's phone and did no work. The humanities were always my strong point in St James's and my levels were high compared to the rest of my subjects. Even though I was interested in Geography and history, my behaviour started to go downhill there too. I can remember turning up late to geography half the time and I remember sitting there with Charlotte mostly shouting insults at Sophie and Chloe who sat in front of us. I think our teacher just blocked us out after a while and just pretended we weren't sitting there. For most of History in year 9 we had a training teacher who me and Charlotte didn't take seriously in the slightest. We spent most of history talking loudly and drawing all over our history books. When we went to the ICT suite, me and Charlotte used to sit on the computers and email people or make meerkats on comparethemeerkat.com. Although we didn't mess about in Religious education, I think I just spent most of the time looking out the window. P.E was a lesson that me and Charlotte couldn't be bothered to do what so ever. I don't think Charlotte once brung her kit in and I used to hide mine at the back of my form room to pretend I had lost it. Me and Charlotte even hid in the changing rooms sometimes, we would wait until everyone had gone to the gym and then our teacher, Miss Jordan would come and check the changing rooms before locking the door. As registers were never done, most of the time no one noticed we were gone. It's still odd, for me to think this school was rated "good" by Ofsted. In Drama, Music and Art, we had Emily by our side. We didn't really feel the need to mess about as the lessons where fun and carefree with energetic and nice teachers.

By April, a lot of things were fractured for me at school. Although my English class was going great with Ms. Baker (I was still obsessed with her, but kept it under control) my behaviour was not so great. It didn't take long for both Mr. Erasmus and Mr. Fotopoulos to figure out that it was Charlotte influencing my behaviour. My mum also had a meeting with Mr. Fotopoulos and said that they wanted me and Charlotte to be split up into different forms, different classes. I think in one argument with Mr. Fotopoulos he even threatened to move me to the other side of the year group. I think, from that point, Mr. Fotopoulos tried his best to split me and Charlotte up, he moved her out of my maths class, eventually moved her to another form and even sacked me from my register job so I wouldn't go near her. During that 'Operation Split up Hannah and Charlotte' I don't think a day went by when I didn't get into an abusive argument with Mr. Fotopoulos about something. I remember just shouting at him on the way to class sometimes, I think whenever I saw him I ranted to him about something. And it was only going to get worse.

Year 9- Forgiveness

I even got put on a sort of "report". In the middle of Year 9. A normal report was when students who were badly behaved got comments written on a report every day and had to show it every day to their head of year or form tutor, depending on how bad the situation was. However mine wasn't an official report. It was something the special needs department made up, to monitor my behaviour. It was set up similar to a report, although apparently 'It wasn't for a punishment'. I always got a negative comment from Mr. Erasmus on my maths and form reports, as well as the 'Didn't take part' or 'No effort put in' by my P.E teacher. It was an odd time really, because I would go from misbehaving and throwing things in maths and being verbally abusive in P.E to going into Science or English and being good and polite. A few of my teachers even gave me an odd expression when I gave them my report at the end of my lesson and would say, 'You are on report?' I knew my over eccentric French teacher, Mrs. Loizou would comment on it. 'No, you are not,' She said loudly before I had a chance to defend myself.

'No miss, it's just...'

'You are not on report?' She asked equally as loudly.

'But it's just that... it's to monitor my behavior and stuff, I think....' I said, nervously.

'You are fantastic, Hannah Barlett,' she said writing 'Fantastic, F.Loizou' in big swirling letters, so big that they covered up some of the other teachers comments. Trying not to laugh, I took the report back, telling her thank you.

I enjoyed my relationship with Ms. Baker. She was one of the teachers I gave all my respect too, and like a few of my other teachers, gave an odd expression when I gave her my report and pointed to Mr. Erasmus's comment and said, 'Is that about you? I can never imagine you being rude and destructive.' But I bet she could imagine that now.

I felt as if I was battling with the teachers, but I was also battling with James quite a lot. Charlotte was absolutely fascinated by our relationship and was confused although we liked each other, how we were not together. She was constantly trying to get us together and would go out of her way to try. I didn't mind her doing it, but she annoyed James incredibly. I was constantly getting emails from him of an evening with him ranting about how Charlotte had spent that English lesson that day prodding and poking and harassing him over why we weren't going out. She would write letters to James and pretend they were from me. Once, she even spent a whole ICT lesson with me drawing 'James loves Hannah' in big letters and decorating it. We had English the next lesson and I was highly embarrassed that she barged in half way through Ms. Baker's lesson and gave her a piece of paper saying 'Can you give this to Hannah. It's from her boyfriend.' Ms. Baker took the piece of paper and smiled slightly before handing it to me saying 'I think this is yours.' She handed me the art work that had 'James loves Hannah' in big letters. I must of gone red with embarrassment. I looked from the piece of paper and up to Ms. Baker and said, 'I don't love him Miss and he's not my boyfriend. My friend drew this, I'm going to throw it in the bin.' Charlotte also told anyone who would listen that we were going out. She matter-of-factly told our form tutor, Mr. Erasmus. I also remember her telling my year 7 crush Mr. Blanc when we had him for a French cover. I remember only once, however, telling her to stop. We were in a normal French lesson, and Charlotte had just moved up to top set French. I never quite understood the behavior of my over-eccentric French teacher so I usually just sat at the back in silence. I think James struggled with her also, so he sat in silence not even daring to ask or answer any questions. However Charlotte wasn't at all bothered by the whole situation and I think I nearly had a heart attack when she yelled across the room. 'Miss, get James to sit over with us, he's going out with Hannah so it's only right.' I think I must of grabbed her arm in total shock she would say that. Her telling Mr. Erasmus or Mr. Blanc I could deal with but Mrs. Loizou was a different story. Luckily Mrs. Loizou just told Charlotte quite literally to 'shut up' and get on with her work.

As this was happening, me and James got more distant again. He said to me once 'I like the old Hannah. Not the Charlotte-cloned Hannah. You are always getting into trouble and getting sent out. I think every time I'm in Maths you are sent into my class or I can hear you arguing with Mr. Erasmus .' I didn't overly care. I had Charlotte, so I didn't need anyone. Although I was still good friends with Emily and she hung out with me and Charlotte we did have a few arguments over a short period of time. I think Charlotte stirred it up a lot and wanted me to herself. She liked Emily but I think she preferred me as I messed around in lesson with her. At one point in the middle of the year, although I was really close with Charlotte I felt distant from everyone else, even Emily. I wrote in my diary in March that year. _'It feels as if I either have everyone and not Charlotte or Charlotte and no one. At the moment, it's Charlotte and no one.'_

By mid-year 9, my relationship with Sophie and Chloe got worse and worse. Sophie would no longer look at me and would cover the side of her face if I was anywhere near her. I still liked her secretly and I still wanted to be her friend, but I knew too much damage was done. But it didn't stop me from trying.

I don't know what started me off to try and make friends with Sophie. I knew I had minimal chance of being friends with her again, but I still didn't want her to hate me. In the end, with the help of Mrs. Benedict I drafted out a sorry letter. My first letter was about 4 pages long and went on for ages, dragging on about how if Chloe had called the police I had people to stick up for me in court and all these other stupid things. Mrs. Benedict helped me shorten it down to a page and a half, so it didn't seem like I was rambling on about things. I lied, basically. It was all one big lie. I lied and said I was over Ms. Baker and didn't like her in that way anymore. I also explained a bit more about Asperger Syndrome and how it makes me do funny things sometimes. I also remember putting 'I'm not putting you under any pressure,' because I knew that would make her happy. I then folded it up and gave it to Mrs. Benedict to give to her.

I, personally was expecting a verbal response from Sophie, but I think Mrs. Benedict told me to expect a letter, if anything. As there was a chance that Sophie didn't respond to me at all. But she did, and the response was quite quick. I remember standing outside in the corridor with her, waiting to go into English. She kept on looking at me, which was unusual in itself. I started to get irritated as she looked like she wanted to say something to me. Finally, she said in almost a whisper, very quickly 'I've got something for you but I gave it to Mrs. Benedict.' She said it so quickly that it was almost jumbled up. 'Ok.' I replied as it was the only thing I could think to say at the time. I think straight after English I charged up to Mrs. Benedict but it turned out she was busy, so I went back at the end of Lunchtime. I usually went everywhere with Emily, but I knew I had to do this one by myself. She had the letter all ready for me, as if she had been expecting me. As soon as I took the letter and opened it, something fell out. I dropped to my knees to pick it up to realize that she had printed out a copy of the threat I sent her. I then read the letter. It was kind of as I predicted really, she didn't want to be friends with me again. However it was a kind letter, and I still have it now. It basically said that she forgave me. She also said that she understood what I done was 'part of my condition' therefore she didn't think I was a horrible person. She put a copy of the threat in there as she said she had deleted all records of it as it was her way of putting it behind her. I read the letter and letter over again, at first not knowing what it meant. She forgave me but didn't want to be my friend? So did she still hate me or not? I didn't get it. Mrs. Benedict took some time out to explain it to me, but it wasn't long before the bell went for afternoon form. I went there quickly and although Sophie had said not to show the letter to anyone but my mum, I showed it to Emily because I was still quite confused about it. It didn't take me long however, to rip up the copy of the threat and throw it in the bin. I didn't want to be reminded of what I had said. I still have the copy of the letter though. I keep it inside a birthday card she gave me when we were in year 8. It will be something that I will always keep.

Year 9- The Trouble with the Internet

Ms. Baker's set started off ok. I was happy, I was pleased to see her every time we had a lesson but still had strong feelings for her that I can't describe, but it slowly started to go downhill. Had survived in her set for five months before I got forcibly removed. If I look back, I'm glad, I'm glad I was in that set. God knows what Ms. Baker thinks of me now after everything that happened post her English class, but I'm glad that she can look back on that time and maybe think that I was a slightly nice person. She was beginning to hear about my behaviour around the school and was starting to see me in endless detentions with Mr. Fotopoulos, but she always seemed to treat me nice in her class. I remember once, when the class had to split into groups to do group work and I had no one to go with, Ms. Baker spent a few lessons working with me. She came and sat next to me for a week and helped me draw and write up a presentation, she was also nice enough to say that I didn't have to show my presentation in front of the class. I did think that as the rest of the class messed about and didn't listen, I was maybe one of her favourites. I remember once she even said she was considering taking our class to the Shakespeare's globe for a school trip, but she looked around the class and said, 'I couldn't take any of you with me, I'm not sure I would want too. I'd take Hannah though.' She said, looking at me. 'It will just be me and Hannah because she's the only one who behaves.' Its things like that made me really happy.

I was happy for my mum to meet her at open evening, a month or two after I moved into her class. Of course my mum had dealt so much with my obsession with Ms. Baker, but never before had she met her. I'm now glad Ms. Baker had met my mum, after all the things that happened later on, at least she can think 'At least she doesn't come from a bad home.'

However, there were a lot deeper issues than me simply turning up to her class and being well behaved. Although at that point I had no desire to touch her, I still thought about her a lot. I wrote in my dairy a month or so after starting out in her class 'When I think about her, I have no mind space. I can't think at all. All I can think about is her and her husband. I'll get him.' Of course I wasn't in any position to 'get him' as I didn't even know his name then, although it didn't take me long to find it out. It was 2009 when the whole Internet situation arose. It was a time, very much like now where the internet was everywhere. Phones, IPod, Laptops, Computers, Tablets- you name it, it had the Internet on it. There was no getting away from it. I think my parents, at first were completely unaware about what I was doing on the family computer. Like now, the website 'Facebook' was massive and almost everyone had it. I was quite a pro on it myself and was always posting statuses, mostly consisting of comments like 'OMG! I CAN'T STAND MY HEAD OF YEAR HE RUINS EVERYTHING!' And other, mostly abusive messages shoved in Mr. Fotopoulos's direction. I knew he had Facebook and I think I threatened to even hack it once, later on in the year. I have to be careful with what I write in this chapter because of course the frauding and hacking is against the law. But that didn't stop me from doing it. And 8 out of 10 times, it worked. It couldn't have been long after I started out in Ms. Baker's class that I first tracked her down on Facebook. It was the start of something new for me, more constant obsessing behavior. At the time, Ms. Baker's profile was public, it was her husbands who I was trying so desperately to access. Her daughter, was second on the list. It took me a few months or so, a bit of experimenting and a couple of fake profiles later, I was quite successful. I know, this makes me sound like such a harassing stalker, but I think it shows how messed up my mind was at the time. I spent days and days on end working myself up about it. Back in the classroom, I think I threatened to Mrs. Benedict that I might touch Ms. Baker. Although, she didn't really tell anyone. I think she told the SENCO once, but it didn't go further than that. It was nice talking to her knowing that every little thing she said wouldn't be passed on. I don't think I even threatened, most of the time I just spoke about it.

As May rolled around, Ms. Baker's class was getting a more and more difficult environment to be in. If she ever mentioned her daughter I would go slightly crazy and obsessive in my mind and wouldn't be able to concentrate. I think it was the 14th of May it kicked off, 4 days after my 14thbirthday. I didn't know it then, but it would be a whole new change for me. I think it was the lesson before the 14th, so it must have been a Monday; where it all went off. I remember we were randomly watching the film 'The Boy in the Striped Pajamas.' I had quite liked the film, and had seen it a few times before. However, I remember the film ending about 10 minutes before the end of the lesson, it was then she decided to let the class have turns at playing a game on the Smart Board. It must have been her home laptop, as she was logged in under her daughter's name. I have no idea why the mention of her daughter had the same effect on me as her husband's name had. I think it was because her daughter reminded me of her husband. After that, I think I just lost it.

Year 9- 'Three Strikes, Then You Are Out'

The English lesson after the whole daughter incident, I remember I went up to see Mrs. Benedict in English to seek advice from her. I can't remember what we were talking about, but all I can remember is walking straight out the door and down to the English corridor, saying that, yes I was going to touch Ms. Baker. The whole touching thing came back. I really wanted to touch her- maybe her back, or her arm. Whichever I could get a hold of first really. I had had a great relationship with Ms. Baker from January till now, so wasn't about to go and ruin it, so I walked slowly down the English corridor, trying to think about what I was going to say to her. My self-control was breaking, but it wasn't broken enough yet for me not to get myself out of this situation. When I got to the English Corridor luckily Ms. Baker was outside of her classroom talking to another English teacher, so I waited for the English teacher to go before I went to speak to Ms. Baker. I took a deep breath and said, 'Hi, I can't go in your class today but I can't tell you why.'

'Ok, that's ok,' She said. I do wonder if she knew what I meant. 'I can give you a SATS paper and you can do it out here.'

I was too mixed up in my own problems to remember it was SATS week. I thanked her for letting me do it outside, however I wasn't really sure how to do it. I tried to do it on the wall, but it didn't work so I gave up. I almost went off into a daydream before a boy came out of the class next to me. I didn't think anything of it at first, but I quickly realized that that was my head of year's English classroom and sure enough Mr. Fotopoulos came out a few moments later.

He stared at me, before saying 'Hannah, what are you doing out here?' He asked

'I'm doing work out here,' I replied, not looking at him.

'Are you meant to be in English?' He asked, frowning.

'Yeah, sir, but I'd rather do it out here.' I said.

'What?' He asked irritably. 'It's a test, you have to do it in a classroom, if you want too, do it at the back of my classroom.'

So I ended up at the back of Mr. Fotopoulos's year 7 English class. I didn't do any work though, I just sat there, pondering my thoughts. I felt bad about storming out on Mrs. Benedict but I couldn't do anything about it then. I just hoped she hadn't told anyone. But it looked like she had.

About half an hour later, Mrs. Benedict called Mr. Fotopoulos outside. I couldn't see or hear them, but I knew they were talking about me. A little while later, Mr. Fotopoulos came to the back of the room to speak to me quietly. 'What did you say to Mrs. Benedict? You upset her.'

So I told him the truth. 'I told her I was going to rape Ms. Baker, sir.' I wasn't even sure I even said that, but I was feeling so mixed up I didn't know what I thought or meant. Mr. Fotopoulos got close to me, and said quietly, so quietly it was almost a dangerous, threatening tone of voice, 'You will not lay a finger on anyone.'

'Try and stop me,' I said back, through gritted teeth.

'And you will be moving back down to Ms. Williams's next lesson.' He said, straightening up with his voice turning back to normal.

'I don't think that will be happening,' I said, my voice as well getting louder. 'You'll see.'

It must have been a shock to his system really, although I had said the same thing last year, but as it was over the internet it made it seem more minor I'm sure that young Mr. Fotopoulos, in his few years of teaching, hadn't quite met anyone like me before. I'm sure, although many students have crushes on teachers, not many students told anyone and teachers didn't usually find out, let alone students telling teachers that they wanted to rape members of staff, whether I really meant it or not.. I was a special case. Credit to him though, another teacher might of completely over reacted and might of even called the authorities. I'm glad, now, he dealt with it in a calm way.

I got sent home after that, which was very annoying, but I just had to plan for the next day. I was no way moving down to middle set next lesson. I had two strikes left, remember? Well that didn't seem to apply anymore.

I had a meeting with Mrs. Benedict in the morning about it. I had forgiven her for yet again messing things up for me because she was the only one I could talk too. The thing is with me, is that I will say something if I am having a bad day but will be fine the next. And I thought that was the whole point of the three strike thing, that if I had an off day, like I did on that day I would still have two chances left. No one seemed to say well done for actually not going in the class and choosing to stay with Mr. Fotopoulos, I think that showed I possessed self-control. But unfortunately soon after that all my self-control disappeared.

The following day I had a meeting with Mrs. Benedict and she said that I should go to see Mr. Fotopoulos to ask for clarification on what was going to happen for my next English lesson. I managed to track him down in the hall later that day when he was on lunch cover. He was sitting on the drama stage, playing with his phone (Again!) before I went up and interrupted him. I was in a calm mood, and said, quite politely, 'Sir, I've been asked to come and see you for clarification about what's happening in tomorrow's English lesson.'

He put his phone down and looked at me, saying 'You're moving down next lesson. All clear now.'

My mood of politeness changed quickly into anger. My voice raised, I shouted at him. 'I hate you sir, you ruin my life!' I then charged out of the hall. Although this wasn't over yet. I never misbehaved or skipped science, but I found myself not going to science and storming straight down to my head of year's classroom, barging open the door without knocking and despite seeing a group of Year 10's watching a film, I shouted at the top of my voice. 'Look sir, let me just make this quite clear unless you are too stupid to understand it, I AM NOT MOVING ANYWHERE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?' His whole class looked from me to him and back again before Mr. Fotopoulos got up and took me outside. However he didn't speak to me at first, he simply said 'come with me,' and led me up the English corridor. I could see pretty quickly where he was going. 'You are going to take me to Ms. Allen sir, because you can't fight your own battles. She really doesn't scare me you know.' I shouted up the corridor at him.

Remaining calm, he said, 'She's just going to make it clear.'

She kind of did. She spoke to me in her normal, sharp, aggressive fashion that she seemed to save just for me. She said, 'you are moving down to Ms. Williams's for the last 7 weeks of term, whether you like it or not.'

I realized then, that this was a battle I wasn't going to win. I was fed up of battling. It seemed every day I battled with Mr. Fotopoulos over something. Whether it was Ms. Baker, Miss Harris, my behaviour or me and Charlotte, there was always something. And it was only going to get worse for me and him. I think I sat with my head in my hands for the rest of the day. I glided slowly into science, after the conversation with Ms. Allen. The class were working when I walked in. I went straight over too her and gave my apologies. Miss McGuire was such a lovely person. She could see I wasn't in a good state and actually stood and held my hand whilst I whispered to her quietly why I was late to class, although I left any mention of Ms. Baker. She patted me on the back gently and came and sat with me whilst she explained where the class where at. I tried extra hard to complete my science work that day, although I was in such a state, I felt I had to give her some respect back. I remember however that I kept looking out the window towards the English block, feeling such hate and anger for Mr. Fotopoulos.

I was still pretty determined when I walked down the English corridor at the time of my next English lesson, the day after. Of course I wasn't going to go straight to Ms. Williams's for my lesson and managed to sneak past Ms. Allen and Mr. Fotopoulos to get into Ms. Baker's class like nothing ever happened. For the first five minutes, it felt like nothing was different, but then Ms. Baker saw me and said, 'Oh, Hannah....'as if she hadn't noticed me sitting there. 'The deputy head thinks you would be better off in your old set.' She said.

However the deputy head got into this I had no idea, but I didn't argue and got up and followed her to Ms. Williams's class. Her class had not yet gone in yet and were all lining up outside. She gave me my half-done SATS paper to do from the other day and looked around for Ms. Williams but couldn't see her so said, 'See you Hannah,' and went back to her class. That was the last time that Ms. Baker sounded comfortable speaking to me. It was almost the last time she spoke to me altogether. That is what I meant when I met it was a whole new start. From that point, Ms. Baker no longer felt comfortable around me. She didn't speak to me in a nice way. I wasn't that bothered by the move as Charlotte was in that class and I immediately sat next to her. That lesson that I had just joined the class in, was a reading class, where people just read books. I looked down at my SATS paper. If I was in this class now, I thought, I was going to do what this class was doing. So I got up, walked towards the bin, ripped the paper up and threw it in the bin before sitting down and getting my book out. Ms. Williams came in late and flustered, looking in an equally bad mood to what I probably did as I hunched over my book, not talking to anyone, not even Charlotte. It looked as if Ms. Williams was about to speak before she saw me.

'Hannah what are you doing?'

'What?' I looked up irritably. 'I'm in this class now, so I'm doing reading like everyone else.'

'You're not in this class. You're in this class do your SATS paper... where is it?' she said, looking around for it.

'I'm in this class now. I've just moved down.' I said confused.

'No you haven't!' She argued back with me.

'Miss, she has,' Charlotte said in my defense.

'You are meant to be doing your SATS paper,' she said, almost sounding hysterical. 'Where is it?'

I smiled slightly before looking up and saying 'It's in the bin. I ripped it.' I said.

'Right.' She said, pointing at the door. 'Get to Mr. Fotopoulos now.'

'You know what.' I said, noisily getting up, gathering all my belongings and heading for the door. 'I will. This English class change. It's all stupid!'

'You go Hannah!' Charlotte shouted loudly.

'You tell her Hannah,' Said another member of the class.

I did exactly what Ms. Williams had told me too and went straight to Mr. Fotopoulos's class, yet again, not knocking, simply barging in. His class were yet again watching a film. 'I've been sent here because I threw my SATS paper in the bin.' I said.

'What?' He asked, struggling to hear me.

So I shouted at the top of my voice, 'I'VE BEEN SENT HERE BECAUSE I THREW MY SATS PAPER IN THE BIN!'

'Go and sit over there then,' He said pointing to an empty desk near his. 'Grab a book on the way,' he said pointing to the book box. I took a book, but didn't read it. I spent the whole lesson making noises with the book, standing it up and pushing it down on the table. Mr. Fotopoulos shot me some dirty looks, so I gave him some back. The bell went quicker than I thought it would. Time flies when you are having fun right? I got up at the sound of the bell for lunch but he shook his head and hand signaled me to sit back down. 'You stay with me for a while,' he said.

Once all his class had gone, he looked at me again and said 'Why did you do it? Was it because I moved you down?'

'Why else would it be?' I replied

'You knew why I did it though didn't you?'

I didn't answer. I was fed up of fighting.

I was so irritated that no one had even been bothered to tell Ms. Williams I was moving back down, especially with Mr. Fotopoulos working almost next door to her. I wouldn't say that communication was the best at St James's.

I didn't settle into Ms. Williams's for ages. I sat with Charlotte, talked loudly and did minimal work. I was probably quite disruptive and I think Charlotte even encouraged me to lob a pen at Ms. Williams's head at one point. It was a shame really, because I really got on with Ms. Williams at the beginning of year 9. She was just another teacher who was getting the brunt of my behavior and more teachers seemed to be getting it every day. It was no longer just my form tutor and Mr. Fotopoulos.

Year 9- 'Shut Up, or I Will Chuck You out The Window.'

Although I was still madly obsessed with Ms. Baker and fuming and Mr. Fotopoulos for moving me down, I was starting to have other issues to contend with. I was getting worried a lot in French. I think I've mentioned my over eccentric French teacher, a couple of times before. As I left St James's in year 10, having Mrs. Loizou for the last term of year 7, the whole of year 8, 9 and 10 I effectively spent most of my St James's life with her. In year 8 it was no big deal. I remember sitting at the back of the class with Emily, finding her incredibly amusing. Although she was slightly scary at times, when she would slam her ruler down hard on the table to make someone jump, or when she would have a total shouting fit if someone entered her class over a minute late. She would mostly sit at the front, eating bags and bags of sweets that she had apparently taken off her children. Mrs. Loizou over reacted with everything. Whether it was a student upset she would dramatically fling her arms around them or if someone had irritated her slightly she would have an absolute shouting fit and would be quite scary to be around. If you misbehaved in one of the other language classrooms, you would never be sent next door or to your head of year, because I think the next door and the head of year threat put together was probably half the pain of being sent to Mrs. Loizou. If you forgot your French book or homework, you were totally in for it (Once Charlotte made up her cousin died because she forgot her French book and that _just_ made the cut) she had to dramatize every situation. If she was giving you a sticker, she would give it out like she was giving out a Golden Globe award, the way she dramatically pulled the sticker from the paper and slammed the sticker forcefully down on your chest, looking right into your eyes as she did so. She always finished off with 'You are amazing!'

You are probably thinking, 'Well she doesn't sound that bad' But don't get me wrong, I haven't written this chapter to slate of Mrs. Loizou, but more to show how I just didn't understand some people. She had a loud and booming voice, which she would use at every opportunity to get the classes attention. She would also threaten people randomly, 'Shut up or I will chuck you out the window!' was one of her favorites. But I never quite got her. Was she really going to chuck people out of the window? She always smiled and laughed when she said it. She would always make us write down stuff in our planners like 'Learn these French Verbs otherwise we might as well die.' Which made me quite nervous. Like I said before, she was quite a physical teacher and would openly put her arm around students if they were upset, but she was also known for pulling people by their blazers and other similar things. I'm sure it wasn't criminal, but no one else was quite like her. I couldn't help thinking that I overreacted a bit as the rest of the class just found her amusing. I think she did because it was her sense of humor, but I still didn't get any of it and too be honest, I still don't now.

It was odd though. Readers are probably imaging her looking over eccentric and odd, but she really looked nothing of the sort. In fact, Emily and Charlotte both voted her the prettiest female teacher in the school. She was of Greek ancestry and possessed a lovely skin tone, similar to the skin tone of Mr. Fotopoulos. She dressed as normal as you could dress really, if you passed her in the street you would have never guessed. She was as average as a teacher could get really. Mid 30s, married with children. I couldn't have even made a wild guess on why she was so odd, as everything else about her was so normal.

Luckily, being a quiet and grounded student I was never, at first at the back end of the threatening and jokes. There was normally one or two members of the class that she would pick on, but up until May of Year 9, it was never me. Things got worse in the whole French class situation when Charlotte moved up to Mrs. Loizou's. I remember lining up for French with Mrs. Loizou on the first day that Charlotte had her. She always made me jump before we even went into the classroom as she would make us all line up neatly and say something like 'I want this line to be a work of art!' I think she made Charlotte jump on her first day when she said something along those lines. 'Is she always like that?' Charlotte asked me nervously.

'Yeah. Just keep quiet and put your head down and she won't bother you.' I replied.

But it wasn't as easily said than done, for Charlotte. I got her to go and sit down while I got a workbook for her.

'Miss,' I said to Mrs. Loizou. 'Charlotte's new, she's from middle set. Can she have a book?'

'She sure can,' she said loudly. She then started singing, loudly so the whole class could hear 'Charlotte, Charlotte, My Charlotte.' She then suddenly stopped in mid-song and shouted at the top of her voice 'CHARLOTTE! You are Charlotte! The naughty one from middle set?' But before I could answer in Charlotte's defense she charged straight over to Charlotte at the back of the room, put her hands down firmly on her shoulders and said loudly 'We are going to be the best of friends!' I don't think I had ever seen Charlotte look so bewildered! I was quite worried about sitting back next to her, however as I sort of knew that Mrs. Loizou was going to start picking on her. Mrs. Loizou quickly set a task for that lesson, to do a role play in Pairs, a few of which would be performed at the front of the class. As soon as she let the class talk amongst themselves; I had an instant feeling she was going to make Charlotte and me go up to the

Front. I quickly opened my French book and started to write.

'Just write what I say,' I said quickly.

But Charlotte had no interest in writing, and simply sat and stared at Mrs. Loizou. 'What an absolute nutter.' Charlotte said, loudly.

'Charlotte! She's going to hear you! Shut up and write this.' I said, shoving my French book into her view. 'But don't let her see you copying from me, otherwise we will both be done for!'

But Charlotte still seemed disinterested in the whole exercise. 'Is she married?' Charlotte asked me.

'Yeah. And she's got children. She brings her daughter to work sometimes.' I replied.

'Pah! Who on earth would wanna marry her? You've got to be joking, she's a lunatic!'

'Charlotte, if she hears you! We've got two minutes left, hurry up and write this!'

Charlotte wrote it down, squinting and the French words written down. 'I don't know what any of this means, but I'll take your word for it.'

'It doesn't really matter, just say them when prompted and we will get through this.' I said, as if we were about to attend something as serious as a funeral. Before I knew it Mrs. Loizou had ordered us all to stop. She didn't deliberate, however in choosing someone to stand up in front of the class. 'Charlotte.' She literally sung. 'Who's your partner?' Charlotte pointed awkwardly in my direction 'Perfect.' She replied. 'Both of you. Front and center now. Hurry up!' Poor Charlotte, I have no idea how she got into top set French. She pronounced about every single word wrong. My heart was beating fast, I was just waiting for Mrs. Loizou to start having a shouting fit, but she didn't. She simply un stuck a sticker from her sticker sheet and slammed it down on my chest.

Although Mrs. Loizou constantly picked on Charlotte after their first meeting, Mrs. Loizou's quite scary behavior didn't phase Charlotte at all and Charlotte was always trying to talk or interact with me whilst I was working. I think Mrs. Loizou noticed this when I told Charlotte to leave me alone at one point when we were meant to be working silently, when Mrs. Loizou shouted in her loud, booming voice, 'I hope you are not talking in my class Hannah Barlett. You are a good girl. Don't turn into Charlotte.'

And it wasn't till May of year 9 that I did something about it. I, was at this point trying to choose my GCSE options and I really wanted to choose French as an option, but there would be a high chance I would have Mrs. Loizou and I don't think I could of dealt with her for another 2 years. I remember talking to Mrs. Benedict about it, telling her that I wasn't sure if she was joking or not when she threatened people and the fact I was actually quite scared of her at times. Mrs. Benedict then came up with a plan that we would have a meeting with Mrs. Loizou, to talk to her. But it didn't turn out like I thought it would.

I think we actually saw her that same day, after we had finished talking. It was the end of her year 7 French lesson and her class were packing the books away. She saw me and Mrs. Benedict in the doorway, and said 'Leave the books out. Hannah will tidy them up.' Before laughing to herself, although I didn't join in. She edged towards us, groaning to herself 'Oh I know what this is going to be about,' as she did. Mrs. Benedict started the conversation, leaving out any mention that I had special needs and said to Mrs. Loizou that I didn't know when she was joking or not. But she took it differently than I expected her to be. 'Are you being serious?' She asked, in a tone of disbelief. I think Mrs. Benedict continued to fight my corner but it only got worse. 'This is pathetic,' Mrs. Loizou continued. So pathetic I was. I wanted to stick up for myself, but I didn't like using my autism as an excuse for things but I think at that point I could have helped. After I think we all lost track of the conversation and I had a feeling that she was starting to get irritated with me. She said 'If you think, you can sit at the back with Charlotte and have a laugh and a game in my class you have got it all wrong. And you do know when I'm joking, Hannah. I don't want to fall out with you. We haven't fallen out before, have we?'

I think I was on the verge of crying at this point, so said 'I don't want to do French GCSE anymore.' I think she might have shrugged, as if she couldn't have cared less. I think the conversation was left there, but was nervous as I knew whenever I saw her next she would question me again. I think it was the next day when I remembered she was on duty outside the hall at lunchtime. I knew this because I knew most of the teacher's duty posts that I had learnt overtime. I walked towards the hall with Emily, telling her, 'I don't want Mrs. Loizou to see me so I'm going to try and hide behind you.' I said. Sure enough, she was outside the dining hall, making sure students didn't bring food out. I crouched behind Emily, trying to blend in with the crowd, but in true Mrs.-Loizou-fashion, I felt an arm grab on my blazer. 'You, over here, now,' she said pulling me over to her by my blazer sleeve, so I stood next to her.

'Are we cool?' She asked.

'Yes,' I replied

'Are we friends?' She asked

I nodded quickly.

She then looked at me with another look of disbelief. 'Do you seriously not know when I am joking, Hannah Barlett?' She asked.

I shook my head, and after receiving another look of disbelief I walked off quickly before she could call me back.

I didn't understand her, and I don't think she understood me. After that, things changed between me and Mrs. Loizou. She seemed to enjoy the fact that I was quite fearful of her and she started to figure out what I did and didn't like. I remember once, after the incident between us, we were going into her classroom and she was touching everyone's backs as they went into the class. I didn't want her to touch my back. I paused before thinking about how to deal with this. I then decided to try and avoid her by entering the class as far away from her as possible. That was a mistake. She then decided to pull me by my blazer towards her, forcibly so she was able to touch my back as I went in the classroom. She almost laughed as she done it. I remember also that same year, she had set a task and I had done it so I went up to her desk and showed her. That was a worrying task in itself, because if you made a simple mistake like not underlining your work with a pencil and ruler, you might as well just not even show her your work. She read through my work slowly and said, 'You are fantastic Hannah Barlett. What are you?'

'Err...' I said, not knowing what to say.

She then decided to grab my blazer with both hands and shake me. 'I said you were fantastic Hannah Barlett!' She said.

She really confused me, I didn't get her at all. She would shake me by my blazer, but she was complimenting me. It was all too much, but I knew it didn't help last time when I got a member of staff involved.

I remember she even randomly done things to me in the corridors. Once she winked at me and randomly touched my tummy and once me and Emily were standing in the corridor minding our own business when she randomly wacked us both round the head with a piece of paper. A couple of times I remember walking past her in the corridor and she would randomly poke me with a pen or with her hand. Once however, it was just me and Charlotte were walking along on our own. I think we had just come from an after school detention as the corridors were empty. We had just turned into the French corridor when we saw Mrs. Loizou walking towards us from a distance. By this time I had learnt that whenever she walked past me she was going to either poke or prod me or something of a similar nature. 'Oh god.' I muttered  'Just don't look at her.' Charlotte replied.  'She's going to poke me or something I can tell.'  As she approached us, with Charlotte looking at the floor I politely smiled at her although surely enough I saw her hand stretch out. She sort of half tickled and half squeezed my side. I felt my stomach jump at her touch. Charlotte snorted with laughter as soon as she walked passed. 'What did she just do to you?' She asked.  'It was a mixture of a poke, squeeze a tickle and a caress I think.' I said, still slightly scarred by what had just happened.

Every time I handed over my progress report she would start poking me with a pen saying 'Why. Are. You. On. Report?' Usually poking me with a pen after every word she said. Her threats seemed to get worse. She still said, 'Shut up or I will chuck you out the window,' but occasionally she would add 'Hannah' on the end, which would make me jump to attention. It was odd though. She always smiled when she poked me with pens, but it seemed like a nice smile. Sometimes she was nice to be. I don't think I ever thought she was being purposely horrible to me, I just didn't get it.

Year 10 was even worse, although I was only there for a short while. I decided to take French as an option and I just had to hope that I didn't get her as a teacher. Both me and Charlotte both chose French and as we were both in different option blocks and with only two classes being taught, one of us was going to end up with Mrs. Loizou for the next two years. And of course, it was me. I think Charlotte literally spent every waking moment of the week or so after Mrs. Loizou announced who would be in her class for GCSE French rubbing in my face that I had to spend another two years of getting picked on by Mrs. Loizou while she spent two years as my peaceful year 7 crush Mr. Blanc as her French teacher.

Mrs. Loizou seemed be more over the top than she had ever been by the time I was in her GCSE French class. I think I tried to be nice to her and tried to stand up to her, but she knew I was terrified of her. I remember once I went up to her in the hall and asked if she had got an email from my mum who had emailed her about something or other. She replied with 'What email?' But before I could respond she shook me by my blazer (again) and only let go when she asked me if I was scared of her. I said yes. She seemed satisfied with this and let go of my blazer. She still picked on me because of what happened last year. If she said a joke or anything like that she would then say at the top of her voice, 'I was joking Hannah!' Then she would look round at the rest of the class and say, 'Bless her, she doesn't understand me.' Which would make the class laugh. I was almost too scared to go to her class sometimes, she didn't make things better. I could be randomly sitting there minding my own business and she would randomly say something. I remember once she was testing all of us on our French verbally going round the class, picking on random people. I remember sitting there, not saying anything before she pointed her ruler in my direction and said 'You better be looking worried Barlett because you are next.' As she never called me Hannah. It was either by my full name or last name only. But I think she started to warm towards me when I started to improve on my French. Compliments like 'You are on fire' and 'You have made my day. Hannah Barlett you have made my day!' she would say in her usual loud voice that whole class could hear. My last memory of Mrs. Loizou was when I was looking out of the window in one of my last lessons with her. After two years of having her, I thought I would of known better than too look out of the window when she was talking, but I was so mixed up at that point in Year 10 I don't think I really listened to anyone. I remember watching Year 7's going to P.E when I felt something hit my arm. I turned round to realize that she had chucked a stuffed elephant at me as I wasn't looking at her.

She just confused me. Everything she did confused me. I didn't know, when she shook me by my blazer whether she was being serious or not, but she always smiled whilst doing it.

At the time, I didn't think about it. I don't think I even told my mum, but I think that's because I didn't see much wrong with it. Which is probably a reason why I was vulnerable at the time as someone could do something bad to me and I wouldn't know it was bad or not. But the more I think about it now, the more I think how her actions were so odd. Due to bad management of staff and the disrespect staff got from children, most teachers left St James' in clusters around the time that I left in Year 10. However, Mrs. Loizou still remains at St James' to this day. My brother reports that she is still as mad as ever.

Year 9- The Problem with Mr. Fotopoulos

The week beginning of the 8th June marked the most stressful week of my school life. I have had more situations that were more stressful, but it was the fact that everyday apart from Monday something happened and by Friday evening I had been excluded. Most of the stress revolved around the fact that since I left Ms. Baker's English set, I had becoming more obsessed by the day.

It was coming up to Ms. Baker's birthday again and like last year I wanted to make her a card, I also had determination to speak to her, even though I was banned from doing so. But unlike last year, there was someone standing one, incredibly irritating man stood in my way.

From the time I had moved out of Ms. Baker's set, till her birthday week, Mr. Fotopoulos had changed his attitude towards me. Well, me Emily and Charlotte, but me especially. He had gone from firmly standing his ground and having constant shouting matches with me in the corridor, to trying so hard to be my friend, almost. It was odd, but he was always trying be nice to me and Charlotte especially, because we were the ones who really disliked him. I remember he used to come and bother us in lessons when we were trying to work, a particular incident was in Maths in the ICT room. I was with Emily and Charlotte and too be fair we weren't doing much work, just emailing each other, but Mr. Fotopoulos had decided to come and stand behind me, asking why me and Charlotte didn't like him and whether we thought it would better for us to work apart. I remember him asking.' Are you two working together again?'

Irritably, I turned round and said 'Year sir, we are, what are you going to do about it?'

'Why are you always so rude to me?' He asked although he smiled as he asked. He then turned to Charlotte and said 'Charlotte why is Hannah always so rude to me?'

'Coz no offence sir, you are kind of annoying and we kind of don't like you.' She replied.

'You don't mean that Charlotte. You see Hannah, me and Charlotte are like best friends.' He said, obviously humoring himself. Of course Mr. Fotopoulos and Charlotte were not best friends at all and I think he got satisfaction from the horrified look on Charlotte's face when he even implied they were friends. I felt like he was always trying to wind me up. I think on that occasion I turned around to him and said 'Sir, I don't like you. Go away.' I was still angry with him from moving me away from Ms. Baker, messing things up between me and Miss Harris, as well as him trying to split me up from Charlotte. I think I was more furious that he sacked me from taking the register to and from the office with Emily everyday so I couldn't walk past Charlotte's new form room than anything, as by this point she had been moved to my old form, Mr. Jones's.

He targeted me especially though.

Tuesday the 8th June was no acceptation for Mr. Fotopoulos's annoying behaviour. I thought it was kind of odd that after I've told him on two separate occasions that I wanted to 'Rape' Ms. Baker that he even wanted to talk to me. Summer was upon St James's that Tuesday and it was an odd occurrence that it was only the middle of lunchtime but me, Emily and Charlotte had the dinner hall basically to ourselves, as everyone else was out enjoying the sunshine. There might have been a couple of year 8's in the corner but no one else. About half way through the lunch hour, Mr. Fotopoulos swapped with the other teacher on dinner hall duty and sat on the drama stage and watched over the 6 people in the hall at the time. I knew I was rude to Mr. Fotopoulos, but he didn't often help himself. And this day was no different. Mr. Fotopoulos seemed to get bored after a while, and came over to sit- uninvited with me and Charlotte and Emily. The most annoying thing was, it was me who he came and sat next too. "Hi Hannah, Hi Emily, Hi Charlotte", he said. I and Charlotte both looked away from him but Emily, who was without a doubt the most polite one out of the three of us, tried to hold a conversation with him, both me and Charlotte still looking in the opposite direction. When his and Emily's conversation drew to a close, I was hoping he was going to go, but he stayed put and yet again attempted to start up a conversation with me and Charlotte. He was increasingly getting on my nerves, so I decided to tease him.

'Sir, guess whose birthday it is tomorrow?' I asked

'Don't know? Who's?'

'Come on Sir you are meant to know your friend's birthdays.' I said, pointing out Emily's and Charlotte's birthdays

'Hannah I really don't know whose birthday you are talking about.' But he was smiling as I said it, he knew exactly what I was talking about.

'Come on sir,' I said before I could stop myself, 'you know who I am talking about, you've most likely been in her bedroom.'

By that, I didn't mean literally been in her bedroom. I meant, he's had sex with her. Most of the time, people with Asperger Syndrome just put things across as they are, but this I time I didn't, I knew I was teasing him. And he knew exactly what I meant. Charlotte burst out laughing when I said that, which encouraged me to carry on. 'You've most likely slept with all the English teachers,' I said.

'I don't know what you are talking about-'he started, but I wasn't finished.

'Miss Harris, Ms. Allen, Ms. Williams....Miss... Miss... .' I said trying to think of more English teachers.

'Mrs. Carksy?' He joined in. He was actually joining in.

'Yeah you can have her as well if you want sir, she's married but no one's stopping you are they sir, you're dangerous around women! And men! You've slept with them as well. Mr. Wellman...'

'And Mr. Simpson?' He said, smiling slightly.

'Yeah he's as ugly and old as anything but it's a personal opinion right sir?' I said, now in a seriously hyped up state.

'Maybe you are getting a bit out of hand now,' he said, his tone of voice changing slightly.

'Not really, you ruin my life, it's just revenge.' I replied.

'I don't ruin your life.' He said, he then turned to Charlotte for support, 'Charlotte, do I ruin your life.'

'Yeah kind of sir, you are a life ruiner. That's your new nickname sir, life ruiner.'

With both me and Charlotte in hysterics of laughter, I think Mr. Fotopoulos thought it was time to leave, so he got up and went to sit back on the drama stage. But I couldn't end it there. I was so hyped up. It was one thing, maybe, that I was trying to get back at him but I liked how I was pushing his boundaries and if I had said what I said to him, I wouldn't know how they would have reacted. But I thought it was odd that he was so desperate for me to like him (I have no idea why he would even want me to like him) that he would join in and encourage me shouting abuse at him. It was so odd.

'Maybe you should go and say sorry,' Emily suggested.

'Yeah, go and give him this from me,' Said Charlotte who had drew a picture of Mr. Fotopoulos's face with tears coming out of his eyes. She had written 'SORRY SIR.' Next to the picture. In a hyper state I literally grabbed the paper of Charlotte and almost skipped over to Sir. I gave him the picture before sitting on the stage next to him. Now it was my turn to annoy him. 'What color is Ms. Baker's bedroom sir? You would have been in there enough times to know.'

'Do you need to go home Hannah?' He asked.

'Oh yeah go on sir, send me home, anything to get out of Mr. Erasmus 's Maths lesson.'

He stared at me. He really did look concerned.

'And guess what? I'm going to send her a card. So what are you going to do about it?'

I then went back to sit at the table with Emily and Charlotte. He tried to come over again just before the bell went for afternoon form. I was sure he came over to talk to me, but when he got to the table he got distracted by Charlotte drawing on the dinner tables with permanent marker.

'Charlotte, get that off,' He told her.

'Err, No.' Charlotte replied.

'Give me that pen.' Mr. Fotopoulos said, holding out his hand.

'No sir!' She said.

'Now!' Mr. Fotopoulos said, sharply.

Instead of passing him the pen however, Charlotte threw the pen at him. It missed him though and instead landed by my feet. More hysterical than I have ever been before, I think I screamed at the top of my voice 'Charlotte I've got it! I've got it.' With a rush of emotions running through me, I randomly stuck my foot out to try and drag the pen towards me, but in the process Mr. Fotopoulos stepped forward to get it which almost caused him to trip over my foot. Mr. Fotopoulos then disappeared for a few seconds and came back with a sponge and soap for Charlotte to get the marker off the table. I honestly couldn't stop laughing, as Charlotte scrubbed madly at the table, all 3 of us unable to stop laughing.

'Get to form you two,' He said to me and Emily.

'But sir, the bell ain't gone yet.' I replied.

'Now!' He said sharply

'Oh go and sleep with Ms. Williams,' I said, still rooted to the spot.

'Oh sir, forget this,' said Charlotte, throwing the sponge down on the floor. 'And you are such an idiot sir mate,' She finished and got her bag and started to walk towards the door. 'Yeah sir. You are an idiot!' I joined in, following her out the hall.

I did do what I promised Mr. Fotopoulos I would and I did make Ms. Baker a card that evening, as it was her birthday the next day. My card in year 8 was relatively innocent compared to that one I think, I remember saying 'Why don't you shut your husband and children in a box and ship them off across the Atlantic then you can be with me!' It was probably the worst thing I wrote and the only thing that I can remember writing now. I didn't try and make an effort presenting the card, I think I just wrote 'HAPPY BRITHDAY' on the front in my usual, un-neat handwriting and finished it there.

Year 9- Desperation

Due to my rudeness Tuesday and Ms. Baker's birthday the next Mr. Fotopoulos put me in the schools isolation room for the whole day. Although I say both those factors contributed to my punishment, I think it was mainly because it was Ms. Baker's birthday and he was worried about what I would do. I thought this automatically because Charlotte had also been rude to him and she was allowed to walk around freely with no sanction the day after. I also often said things of a similar nature to him and he usually didn't do anything about it.

Wednesday started off like a normal day; I still had to go to form in the morning to register with Mr. Erasmus and then Mr. Fotopoulos would come and take me to isolation. But when Mr. Fotopoulos came to do his round of the Year 9 form rooms, he didn't just want to take me up to isolation. I have to admit, I started the argument by immediately asking what day it was when he approached my desk. 'Wednesday?' He said, smartly.

'You know what day it is. Are you going to send her a card sir? It's decent manners, init,' I said.

'Have you got anything to show me Hannah?' He asked me.

'Nothing I want to show you, sir.' I replied.

'Come outside a minute.' He said, leading me into the maths corridor with the card in my pocket.

'I need to have your card.' He said, turning on me.

'No. If I wanted you to have a copy I would have made you one, but I didn't.'

He started to get close to me. Too close. I could feel him breathing on me. I had to step back away from him, but ended up banging up against the wall of the corridor so I had nowhere to go. He said, incredibly quietly, 'Come on.'

I didn't like people getting close to me, so I said, 'I'll throw it in the bin, and I'll show you.'

'No, I need to have it.'

'Well you can't!'

'Just give it to me Hannah!'

There was only one thing I could think of doing at that point...I took the card out of my pocket and ripped it up into tiny little shreds and scattered them on the floor. 'Oh dear, clumsy me. Bye Sir.' I said, and ran back into form. I turned back only to see Mr. Fotopoulos drop to his knees, collecting all the tiny pieces of paper. It was odd that he wanted to see the card, as I offered to throw it in the bin, but he was having none of it.

That Wednesday had to be one of the most boring days of my life, sitting in the same seat for six and a half hours. I had done isolation before but usually it was with Mr. Fotopoulos. I was only probably in the school's isolation room because his room was next door to Ms. Baker's and he wanted to keep me as far away from her as possible. There was only one other girl in isolation with me, who was in our year group. She laughed out loud when I came in. 'oh my god, Hannah Barlett! That's jokes. She's a good girl.' Of course she made me explain to her why I was in isolation but I said it was because of what I had said to Mr. Fotopoulos about him sleeping too many people. 'Oh my god, that's bare jokes.' She replied, impressed.

The day was made even longer by Mr. Fotopoulos coming in constantly. He came in, trying to talk to me, or he would snatch up the paper that I was writing on and to look at what I was writing. I think at one point, it might have been the third or fourth visit, I snatched my work out of his hands and said, 'For god's sake, go away, you are so annoying. And guess what. I am going to see Ms. Baker and the end of the day. What are you going to do about it?' He got a teacher to escort me out of the gate at the end of the day. That's what he did.

I was so obsessed at this point, but was also obsessed with the situation. The more days went by the more I felt hatred for Mr. Fotopoulos and the more I wanted to get back at him. I remember thinking to myself 'I will give her a card, and there is nothing he can do about it!' I think why that week happened, mostly because I was trying to win a fight against Mr. Fotopoulos. And just like me, Mr. Fotopoulos wasn't giving up easily. I made another card that evening, and it was only going to get worse.

The beginning of Thursday started off very similarly to Wednesday morning. I went to form as usual. And about 10 minutes into form Mr. Fotopoulos came for his usual rounds of the year 9 forms, and with no surprise came straight over to me. 'Morning Hannah,' He said, calmly.

'Morning sir. Pleasant evening last night?' I asked, sarcastically.

'Have you got something to show me?' He asked.

'Maybe.' I said.

'Come outside then and give it to me.' He said.

I followed him outside, but didn't give it to him. The conversation went similarly too yesterday, apart from it was a full on argument. I was shouting at the top of my voice, unable to control myself, his voice was also raised. He also tried his tactic of lowering his voice and getting closer to me like he did the day before but I kept my feet firmly on the ground. After a five minute shouting match, ending with me shouting loudly 'GET AWAY FROM ME!' he stepped back and quietly told me to follow him. I walked with him down the corridor too reception. I knew I was in trouble, but don't think I really cared. It was quite a peaceful walk, before he started another argument. 'Just give me the card Hannah,' he said.

I thought for a second before saying. 'Here, sir, you have the card.' I held it out but withdrew it quickly. Laughing at his desperation I did it a few more times until he was too quick for me and grabbed the card. I still had a tight hold on it however. Him, being a 20-something year old man was obviously stronger than me and managed to snatch the card from me. He then held it in the air so I couldn't reach it. As I tried to desperately grab it, he stuck his arm out to try and stop me. I tried to push his arm down but he fought back. I then tried to elbow him out of the way as he tried to push me away with his arm. I couldn't believe I was having a physical fight with a teacher over a scrap of paper. I don't think any words were uttered by either of us as we desperately grappled with each other. I then had a plan. I calmed down for a few minutes, in which Mr. Fotopoulos used to hold the card at arm's length in front of him. Then from out of nowhere- and kind of madly, I lashed out and grabbed the paper but as he still had a tight grip on the card, we managed to split the card into three pieces. I only managed to grab one of the three pieces. We had reached reception now and he told me to go and sit down while he went to speak to someone. He even tried to put the ripped up paper on a table and stick them together. 'You're a sad and nosy man!' I think I must have screamed at him. 'I hate you!'

Ignoring the abuse, he stood up and told me to go to Maths, which was my next lesson. I went back and had a typical lesson with Mr. Erasmus where I didn't actually do anything. I just poured my thoughts and feelings to Emily. 'Maybe you should say sorry,' she suggested. I knew she meant to Mr. Fotopoulos, but that just gave me another idea. I could say sorry to Ms. Baker. 'Yes! That's a brilliant idea!' I exclaimed, ripping another page out of my unkept, messy maths book. 'Although I can't write it on this, I'll draft it.'

So I wrote out, what I thought was a kind, heartfelt message. I can't really remember what I put, nor did I think I finished it, before Mr. Fotopoulos came in laden with text books, and was struggling to carry them all at once. He came straight over to me, and with the text books literally falling out his hands, he huffed and puffed as he saw I was writing. 'Are you writing another one?' he asked, holding his hand out. But this time, I gave it to him as I had nothing to hide. He must have dropped a couple of books in order to take the scrappy piece of maths paper from my hands. I politely picked up the books for him and he told me to follow him. I knew I was being sent home. I gathered that when he came in with all the text books. For the second time that day, I followed my head of year to reception. He told me to sit down as my mum was coming and actually sat down with me until she got here.

'Do you like my card sir,' I said, as soon as he sat down next to me. 'Can I give that one too her?'

'No, Hannah, you can't give anything too her.' He said.

'Why? This is a nice card.'

'I think its best you leave her alone.'

'Oh I hate you! You ruin my life.' I responded angrily.

'It's not my intention.' He said, quietly.

I went home and spent the rest of the day thinking. This card thing was getting old now, I thought, and besides, Ms. Baker deserved a face to face apology. I still felt for her so much. So much more with all this stress going on. The more Mr. Fotopoulos stopped me from having contact with Ms. Baker, the more I wanted to have contact with her. I didn't even know how I felt about her, my feelings were so confusing. I just wanted to be with her. Not even sexually, I didn't even know how. Things were getting more confusing by the day.

So I went in the following day, Friday, with a plan. I was going to see Ms. Baker. At this point, I don't think I cared about Ms. Baker's feelings, I was just trying too hard to fight with Mr. Fotopoulos. I don't know why, but I left going to see Ms. Baker till the end of the day. As always, Emily was by my side. I went down to find Ms. Baker in hope that my head of year wasn't around. As his classroom was next to Ms. Baker's, it was always hard to get past him. And this day was no expectation. In fact, it was the worst possible scenario, as when we got down to Ms. Baker's room, we could see Mr. Fotopoulos in there with her, most likely relaying the past week's events to her. 'Right, let's play it cool Emily,' I told her. 'If anyone asks, we are waiting for my sister, alright?' She nodded, as she always did, and when Mr. Fotopoulos came out of the classroom, I casually looked away from him and tapped my foot, attempting to look like I was waiting for someone. But I wasn't fooling anyone- we looked obvious. 'What are you two doing?' He asked, straight away.

'We are waiting for my sister.' I replied.

He raised his eyebrows at me.

'FINE! WE ARE WAITING FOR MS BAKER. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?' I shouted, my voice raising by the second.

'Right, out. NOW!' he said, his voice also rising.

I stormed off in a rage, only stopping at the top of the corridor to turn round and hurl more abuse at him. 'I HATE YOU! I hate you, you are a stupid man and you get everything wrong!' However, his reaction was different than I thought it would have been. 'You stepped on my foot!' He exclaimed. He then turned to Emily, who was still standing behind him, 'She stepped on my foot!'

'I didn't! You're making it up!' I shouted back down at him.

'She stepped on my foot! You stepped on my foot!' He said, as if someone had killed his mother.

'Well in that case I HOPE IT HURTS!' I shouted at him.

Before he could say anything more, and hearing all the commotion, Miss Harris came out of her room. Mr. Fotopoulos looked past me to Miss Harris, still saying 'She stepped on my foot!' Miss Harris then looked to me. As if she didn't dislike me enough already. Almost in tears, I turned towards the door, saying 'Well I didn't mean to step on your foot, did I?' before storming out of the English block. I think, at that point I was so not right in the head I was close to barging past Mr. Fotopoulos and I'm surprised now, that I didn't. I think I looked back at the events the day before and knew there was no getting past him- if he wanted something, he would fight for it. I knew he would physically stand in the way of Ms. Baker's door and him being a lot stronger than me I would have to of been extremely forcible with him to get him out of the way. Also, at this point I didn't want to touch Ms. Baker. I was more intent on trying to say sorry and make things right. But Mr. Fotopoulos was treating me like I was dangerous, too dangerous to be allowed near his precious Ms. Baker. But now I think back, considering I threatened to rape Ms. Baker to his face, he probably didn't know how to deal with it.

Up until this day, I don't believe I stood on his foot. But I also don't know why he would make something up like that. I didn't feel his foot undermine at all, I simply stormed away from him. Maybe he just didn't know how to deal with me anymore. When you do your teacher training, you don't learn how to deal with nutters like me.

That day, a letter was sent home, saying I was excluded because I 'Stamped on the foot of a member of staff.'

Year 9- Things Start To Get Serious

I think I only had one day exclusion and remember going in the following Tuesday. My mum did say she wondered whether she would even send me in then, as she said I was 'unpredictable.' I think I even felt I was unpredictable. We had a meeting with Mr. Fotopoulos and a random assistant head that morning before I went back into class. I told my mum over and over that I didn't step on Mr. Fotopoulos's foot, and even too this day she says she doesn't believe me. It was such an odd situation, as Emily said she didn't see me do it either. But I wasn't surprised no one believed me, given the state of my mental health at the time. Despite a meeting where I had to pretend I was sorry for not even stepping on someone's foot, I didn't learn anything. I was determined as ever.

The first time was at break time, when I went to speak to her with Charlotte for the first time and not Emily. I remember her giving me words of reassurance on our way, most of which involved the fact that I was trying to get back at Mr. Fotopoulos. I approached Ms. Baker's classroom as most of her class were just leaving for break. I waited nervously, until they had all gone, which was when I stepped into her door way. 'Miss,' I said. 'Can I speak to you?'

She looked up at me. 'I think you have to speak to Mr. Fotopoulos first,' she said. She generally sounded really nervous.

'I HATE HIM!' I shouted aggressively which made her jump slightly. I then went back out of the classroom and relayed the conversation to Charlotte. But Charlotte shook her head when I said Ms. Baker said that I needed to go past Mr. Fotopoulos first, and instead pushed me back into Ms. Baker's classroom and said, 'You don't need that man's permission to speak to anyone. Go and stick up for yourself.'

'I'm....' I started, although Ms. Baker wasn't looking at me, she had her back to me and was sorting through some papers. 'Really sorry for everything I've ever done to you.'

'That's good,' she said, although she didn't sound in anyway enthusiastic about speaking to me. I was about to think about what to say next before I saw Mr. Fotopoulos walking towards us at a fast pace. 'Shit, Char, its sir, run!' I said, grabbing Charlotte's arm and running as quickly as we could away from Mr. Fotopoulos. I looked back only when we reached the top of the corridor. Mr. Fotopoulos was speaking to Ms. Baker outside her classroom. I knew I was in trouble, but I didn't care. I would speak to her. I would.

The second time I tried to get her attention was at the end of the school, with Emily that time. I walked with her down the corridor, feeling incredibly pleased that my head of year's classroom was shut and locked, so I should have no people trying to stop me. I went to her classroom, but she wasn't in there, although her door was open, so she would be around somewhere. I looked around for her and quickly spotted her in Mrs. Carksy's room, talking to her. I quickly darted around the corner, not wanting Mrs. Carksy to see me either. But I still waited for her to come out. She spotted me straight away. I thought she was going to ignore me, but instead she looked at me and actually spoke to me. But her voice was cold and distant. 'If you are looking for Mr. Fotopoulos, you need to go to his office,' she said.

'I'm not waiting for Mr. Fotopoulos,' I said, edging away from his classroom and towards her.

'Who then?' She asked.

But no words came out of my mouth. I couldn't. I was so nervous, shaking. I couldn't speak to her. I was too nervous. And besides, there was too much to say.

'No one! I'm going!' I said and turned around.

'Yes,' She said, 'I think you need to go home.'

I didn't go into school for a good couple of week after that. Not because I was excluded, but because my mum was too scared to send me in. She was trying desperately to get me a statement of special needs at the time, because even though I was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome when I was 7, I hadn't got the right support, and my mum thought that was down too not being statemented. Not that I got the right support after I got statemented or anything, though.

When I got statemented that July, things started to change. For one, after a year of constantly fighting with Mr. Fotopoulos he wasn't the one solely dealing with me anymore. Although he still dealt with part of my issues as he was still my head of year and still played Ms. Baker's protector, it was mainly the special needs department that dealt with the Ms. Baker side of life.

After constantly having incidents with Ms. Baker for the last year, the school finally decided it may be time to put some things into place. They were mostly put into place by Mrs. Nenitt, the head of special needs. Firstly, I was only allowed into until after break every day. I didn't really see how that would help matters, it would just slow down my education. I also had to spend every break time in the Special Needs unit with Emily. Charlotte soon got bored of the fact that I wasn't allowed outside so started to hang around with other people. But Emily stuck by my side and we tried to make the best out of a rubbish situation. I was also starting to be followed by people, or what I called, stalked by people. Mrs. Nenitt got several support assistants to follow me around to lessons so I wouldn't go near Ms. Baker, which was a waste of time really as if I did ever touch her, they couldn't physically do anything as it was illegal. I hated this with a passion, I thought of it as, I wasn't allowed to follow people but people were allowed to follow me. I rebelled against this and still tried to see Ms. Baker.

I was so obsessed with her, it was excruciating. I spent every day and night thinking about her. I lost my appetite, I couldn't sleep, I would dream about her. I found it increasingly hard to control myself around her. And no, I didn't want to 'rape' her, I wanted to be near her, to hug her and touch her arm. Although I thought it was predominantly not sexual, my feelings were all very confusing. I started to get incredibly mentally ill. I felt like some kind of physco. It's kind of being like on drugs, there's no way out. There's nowhere to turn. She was just there. I started to go a bit odd on the internet. I had at this point stopped posing as other people and was then just going on as myself. I bugged, harassed and acted completely mental. I kept all the chat logs I had with various people, mainly Ms. Baker's daughters and her friends, as by this time both Ms. Baker and her husband had removed themselves from Facebook. I think most of the girls who were about a year or two older than me were quite amused by some mental child harassing them for pictures and information on their friend's middle aged mother. A few of them did speak to my nicely and one of them even told me something later, that would make me go slightly odd in the head. But at that time, Ms. Baker's daughter also had a fair share to say to me back. Statuses like 'Eugh, don't speak to this girl Hannah. She's this total mad nutter who is trying to kill me. And she flipping fancies my mum!' Were common. I sometimes look back through the chat logs and messages I sent. It's sad too look back really, as I was totally not with it and wasn't right, at all. It was odd to think I was ever like that. But there is such an unawareness for mental illnesses. Most people would think, if they knew me at that time, 'what an absolute nutter, just stick her in a prison cell', as it's difficult to understand someone who's mentally ill. But too be honest, now I understand. I understand people who are battling with depression, drugs and obsessions, everyone says 'You can control your mind.' But I'm sure they wouldn't be saying that, if they went through a similar thing that I did. There were so many times I felt uncontrollable and unpredictable.

Ms. Baker was getting more and more aware of the situation and Mrs. Benedict told me a couple of times that she felt threatened by me.

That was when things started to get serious. The Police got involved.

Year 9- The End of another Stressful Year

There were a couple of myths about how the police got involved. The first myth was that my mum called them to have a chat with me. That's what Mr. Fotopoulos said. Whereas Mrs. Benedict, said that Ms. Baker filed a complaint against me. I think I went towards Mrs. Benedict's input as I wasn't too keen on Mr. Fotopoulos and he often blamed my mum for things. When Mr. Fotopoulos tried to split me and Charlotte up earlier on in the year, he always told me as an excuse that my mum told him too do it. Whereas my mum said Mr. Fotopoulos suggested it. In year 9, my mum and Mr. Fotopoulos blamed it a lot of things each other really, neither of them wanting to be the guilty party.

When I say the police, it was only the local community police officer. He seemed scary enough though. I had a meeting with him at the school on the 10th July with my mum, Mrs. Benedict, Mrs. Nenitt and Mr. Fotopoulos. My mum spoke to me about it before, it was apparently a meeting where a friendly neighborhood police officer was going to explain to me what would happen if I perused more contact with Ms. Baker. But it wasn't like that at all. He said, in a cold, hard voice that if I did anything to Ms. Baker again I would be arrested and sent to jail. Simple as. I just wanted the meeting to be over, but people kept on speaking and making up conversations. Mr. Fotopoulos even made the situation worse for me by running through with the policeman what he meant by contact. 'No written notes then. What about speaking too her? What about on the internet?' If the policeman wasn't there I would have probably told him to shut up. I was fed up- I felt so awful inside, so confused and no one was helping me. I was just getting threatened.

Later on that day, I remember having a big meeting. It was probably the biggest meeting I had ever been too apart from the fact I think I spent most of my time sitting outside. I say it was big because there were a lot of people in it, most of whom I didn't know. There was a specialist teacher, a psychologist a senior learning coordinator and others. There was also the usual crew that consisted of Mrs. Nenitt, Mrs. Benedict, and Mr. Fotopoulos and of course my mum. I didn't know a lot of what went on in the meeting until a lot later on, after I left school altogether. I do remember, however someone telling me in the meeting that yes, it was Ms. Baker who filed a complaint about me. Due to the apparent 'Harassing and threats to her family and sexual threats towards her.' This annoyed me slightly, only because I never directly threatened her family, I may of harassed, yes, but not threatened. I also only threatened to 'rape' Ms. Baker once, verbally. So I don't know where anyone got the 'sexual threats' from. Note there was an S on the end, to make the implication that I threatened numerous times. The summary of the meeting stated that I was often 'inappropriate and aggressive towards staff' and 'made constant threats to Ms. Baker's family, especially her daughter.' In both reports of the meetings, it said I sat there and listened to everyone else. It stated that I was calm and reasonable, I knew inside I really wasn't. In my diary that evening, I wrote ' _I hate my life! I can't stand it. Nobody understands and now it's gone too far. I had a meeting with PC Thompson today. He said if I do one more little thing to Ms. Baker or her family, I'm going to jail. Simple as. You know that's not a very nice feeling. The fact that if I go near Ms. Baker again; the person I love most in my life then I would be behind bars. It's not fair, I can't help myself. I'm really scared. I can't believe Ms. Baker filed a complaint against me. I can't believe she feels threatened by me. I never meant for her to feel like that, nothing matters to more to me than her, she is the best person in the whole entire world. I want to kill myself. I'm such a horrible and bad person. Deep down I know I'm not, but I just can't control myself.'_

I remember getting my year 9 report that July, dreading what was inside it, but it was quite a pleasant surprise. I thought especially my head of year and form tutor reports were going to be full of negativity, but they weren't. Mr. Erasmus kindly put, 'Hannah has gone out of her own way to make other people feel welcome,' meaning how I was friendly with Charlotte when she first started. Mr. Fotopoulos's comments however, surprised me more. He said, 'Hannah is a very polite girl.' After I elbowed him, said I hated him, called him a stupid man, an idiot and told him he slept with too many female teachers as well as spending half my year 9 life being verbally abusive to him, god knows where that comment came from. Although I think towards the end of Year 9, especially in the last month when he wasn't dealing me as much, we got on better. Now I think back however, one thing that Mr. Fotopoulos had, which a lot of other people didn't, was patience. I don't think he ever really shouted, even when I was yelling at the top of my voice. He never went over the top when I said something odd. He was no saint, I will always remember constantly fighting with him, but for a 20-something year old in his first year as a head of year it was going to be as good as I was going to get.

A week or so after the meeting, it was announced that Mr. Fotopoulos was no longer going to be our head of year and was going to the head of year of year 8 when I was in Year 10. There was a mixture of happiness and sadness when I found out that news, as because even though we really didn't get on well for most of the year, he knew everything about me and my situation and I was used to him. Now another teacher had to learn my situation and I had to get used to them. I don't really blame Mr. Fotopoulos now. He was still quite young and it was his first year as a head of year, and I don't think he planned to deal with any 14 year old stalkers. I was also sad to find out that Mr. Erasmus was no longer my form tutor. Even though I had a partly bad year with Mr. Erasmus, the beginning of the year and the end of the year was great in his form, and I was going to miss him a lot. There was too much change already. I should have known that Year 10 was going to go even worse than year 9.

Year 10- Trouble on the First Day

The first month of year 10 was absolute torture. I liked my new form tutor, Ms. Wright, although I didn't know her very well, but I got used to her quite quickly. I wasn't, however too keen on my new head of year, Mr. Walker, who was a P.E teacher known for being strict and sometimes not very nice. It really didn't take me long to miss Mr. Fotopoulos.

I think it was the first day that signaled bad things to come. For one, we had two new girls in our class. I was happy to be friendly too them, as I knew how it felt to be on your own without any friends. I really got on well with one of the girls, who was more in mine and Emily's social group. However the other one, I didn't really like. She looked at me funny from the start and I think she just thought I was a bit odd, but followed us around because she had no one else. She wore far too much make up and looked a bit rough. I was incredibly irritated she had seemed to of attached herself to me and Emily, but Emily felt sorry for her. But before I had even judged that this girl didn't like me and Emily had fun in form getting our new timetables and getting all our new planners. As soon as I got my timetable, I scanned through it, really hoping to see either Mr. Fotopoulos as an English teacher or Mr. Erasmus for maths. But irritatingly enough, I didn't get anyone of any interest. Huffing and puffing and the fact that I had teachers I either didn't know or didn't like, I looked over Emily's timetable to see who she had. Immediately, it caught my eye. 'English, Ms. Baker, Room 64.'

'I hate you,' I said, irritably pointing to Ms. Baker's name.

'Sorry,' she said, smiling.

But I took Emily having Ms. Baker for an English teacher as a good point. It gave me a few opportunities.

I think I must have been in school, for an about 3 hours before it all kicked off. I wouldn't say that St James's had the best communication in the world and I think that by this point more and more staff were starting to get aware that I wasn't allowed near Ms. Baker. But there were a few, still a few staff that hadn't really a clue and I found out on the first day of year 10 that my new form tutor, Ms. Wright, was one of them. As there were two new girls in the class, Ms. Wright told me and Emily that they had to come in our classes because they hadn't got a timetable yet. One would go with Emily and the other with me. Ms. Wright also gave me a letter, to give all the teachers that I and Emily had to explain the situation. She left me in charge of the letter, and it took me a while to realize that she had just given me permission to go and have contact with Ms. Baker as she was Emily's English teacher. We had English as our first lesson once we had settled into our new form, and I couldn't feel happier with myself as I skipped out of the class with Emily and the new girls, holding the note in my hand. The teaching assistants were still stalking me, so as soon as I came out of the class, they were there waiting. 'What's that?' She asked, nosily.

'It's a letter from Ms. Wright, to give too mine and Emily's teachers.' I replied.

She didn't question it at first, as of course she wasn't aware that Emily's English teacher was Ms. Baker. It was only a sad realization for her when we were standing outside Ms. Baker's class. 'Come away Hannah,' she said as she saw me going near Ms. Baker's door. 'Err, no! I said before, I have to give this letter too Ms. Baker!' We were at that point standing in her doorway. Ms. Baker was watching me, nervously. She probably thought I was out to give her another card. And with Mr. Fotopoulos no longer my head of year, there was no one to stop me. 'I will give Ms. Baker the letter.' The teaching assistant insisted.

'How about no! Ms. Wright told me to give the letter to all the teachers. Not you! Go away.'

But before I could get any more into Ms. Baker's room, I felt a tug at the letter in my hand. The teaching assistant was trying to grab if off me. 'Let go! Let go!' I think I must have screamed at her, trying to snatch it back. It was an identical situation with Mr. Fotopoulos the year before, when he was trying to get Ms. Baker's card off me. Ms. Baker was still watching us, fight over a scrap of paper. I won the fight in the end, and before she stopped me I stepped over to Ms. Baker and said, 'This is from my form tutor, Ms. Wright. Don't worry, it's nothing else.' She took the letter without saying anything. I paused. 'You have to read it now, as I have to give it to my English teacher too.'

By this point, the teaching assistant was trying to get me out the room saying she was going to get a senior member of staff.

'Who?' I must of spat at her. 'You can't get Mr. Fotopoulos now can you? You can't go running too him. There are no senior of members of staff around.' I turned to say this too her, but when I turned back Ms. Baker had read the letter and handed it back to me. 'Thanks.' I said to her. And like I was told, I turned round and walked towards my own English room. It was great having contact with Ms. Baker- as I hadn't seen her for the six weeks holiday. I remember seeing her that time and that was the first time my stomach jumped when I saw her. I felt nervous- but not as nervous as Ms. Baker seemed to be.

From that first day, I also had a 'Chronology' Written about me. Almost every day, when an incident happened, they would write it down. Often the reports on the Chronology were twisted or wrong. For example, on that first day the chronology states: ' _Hannah refusing to move away from Ms. Baker's room, stating falsely she has a note to deliver from her form tutor.'_

'There all flipping stupid.' I said, as I sat with Emily and the two new girls at lunch. 'Did you see the way she tried to fight me over hat letter from Ms. Wright, I was so close to actually fighting her?' I said aggressively to Emily. The two new girls simply looked at me, as if there was something seriously wrong with me. 'What?' I asked them aggressively. 'Oh you know what Emily I'm going to find Charlotte.' I said, thinking that messing about with Charlotte would cheer me up at this point. I stormed out of the hall, wandering where she actually might have been, as I hadn't seen her all morning. I was half day dreaming and wasn't looking where I was going so ended up bumping full on into my year 8 form tutor, Mr. Jones who was also Charlotte's current form tutor. 'Sir, Is Charlotte in today, I've been looking for her everywhere?'

'No, she's ill I'm afraid. Sorry Han.' He said, patting my shoulder sympathetically. With my mood worsening and the bell about to go, I bid goodbye to Mr. Jones and went to stand outside my form room for afternoon registration. I couldn't of been standing for long, however until a group of girls came over to me.

'Hannah, why are you jealous?' One of them asked.

'Jealous? Jealous of what?' I replied.

'Emily can have other friends you know, so you need to stop getting jealous over nothing.'

'I'm really not jealous.' I replied, flatly.

'Oh, and the new girl thinks you a geeky lesbian.' They said.

'A geek?! Wow, I've never been called that before. Quite a compliment really. And the lesbian thing I'm kind of getting used to know.' I said back to them, but out of the corner of my eye I could see Emily and the two new girls coming towards us. I left the other girls and headed over to them. I vowed myself to keep calm but my voice came out aggressive and hostile. 'Which one of you has been chatting shit behind my back?' I asked.

'What- No one.' Emily replied, nervously.

'Someone's said I'm jealous of Emily and someone's called me a geek and a lesbian, so I want to know who's done it.'

'No one's said you're jealous, but the girls over there told us that you were a lesbian.' Emily said.

'So who's called me a geek? Was it you? I saw you giving me dirty looks when I pulled out all my stationary in form today.' I said, rounding on one of the new girls.

'Yeah I did and so what?' She said, trying to keep her voice steady and firm.

'I'd rather look like a geek than a slag any day, have you seen yourself?' I turned back to Emily. 'I probably won't see you for the rest of the day, I'll text you later, and I'm going up to see Mrs. Benedict before I actually slap someone right around the face.' And with one last dirty look, I left to go and see Mrs. Benedict too tell her about my disastrous first day.
Year 10- More Arguments

It didn't take me even a week of being in Year 10 before I started having problems. For one, I was constantly arguing with our new 'friend', who still followed us around. She had found out on the first day that I was a 'crazy lesbian' as other members of my form had told her, and after that she just looked at me as if I was a piece of dirt. I regularly had arguments with her over emails as well. I kind of enjoyed winding her up, by telling her exactly what I wanted to do to Ms. Baker, which of course she found disgusting. Of course, I also had issues with Ms. Baker herself. I had changed over the summer. I had gone from being so obsessed with Ms. Baker, to being too obsessed with Ms. Baker. Whenever I saw her, I stomach jumped and my legs turned wobbly, and I often had to hold onto Emily for support if I saw her walking. It was almost as if I was so obsessed with her, it was like she wasn't even a human- she was someone different- someone more special.

There was also the confusion with the fact that Emily had Ms. Baker for English. I was still being stalked by support assistants, who used to annoy me so much as they used to take me out of lessons early, which made me just look like I was different. I also had an argument with them on the days where we had English and I used to wait for Emily outside Ms. Baker's class so we could go to the next lesson together. Every time I got into trouble for being outside her room, although it was partly because I was obsessed with her, it was partly because I always used to wait for Emily. We always walked to lesson together. It was a routine.

After the long days passed at school, me and Emily started to become increasingly worried about Charlotte, as we hadn't seen her since the end of year 9. She was becoming increasingly popular but still spent time with us. Charlotte never had anywhere near 100% attendance but me and Emily thought it odd and wandered whether she had started a new school. It felt different without her, not so much fun. I also still had a lot of lessons with her, which I usually spent on my own. I remember going into the school dinner hall one break time and seeing a massive crowd of people gathering in the middle of the hall. 'What's going on?' Emily asked

'Not sure, maybe it's a fight?' I replied, edging closer to get a look. But as me and Emily got closer we recognized a familiar figure trying to untangle herself. 'Charlotte!' We both shouted at the top of our voices.

'Charlotte, where have you been?' we asked when she finally untangled herself.

'Here, there, everywhere.' She replied. 'How's year 10 been? Ha! No Mr. Fotopoulos this year!' She said, looking at me.

'I'm actually missing him Charlotte, year 10 has been awful.'

'Why, what's happened?'

'Long story.' I said. 'Let's walk and talk.'

As my behaviour towards the end of September got so bad, and so autistic it was no longer my head of year who was dealing with it, it was mainly the special needs team, consisting of Mrs. Nenitt and her 'team' including the learning mentor Mrs. Benedict. I spent more time with Mrs. Benedict than I ever did, especially as after a year of bunking P.E and arguing with my teacher, the school decided they wouldn't make me do P.E and they would let me have a 1:1 session with Mrs. Benedict instead. I also had 1:1 lessons when we had citizenship, as I sort of did the work up there. Maybe they thought I needed my citizenship to be one to one, as it was all about politics and sex and I think they all thought I was a vulnerable person in some of those areas, although I didn't agree, I probably was.

I do believe that the special needs department at St James' did try and help me towards the end. One of the ways that they tried to help me, was by setting up an agreement. This helped, as I knew firm rules; what I could and couldn't do. Only trouble was, I didn't actually agree to those rules. Especially the one stating that every break and lunchtime was to be spent in the unit. I was probably rude and non-compliant in the meeting where I was supposed to sign this agreement, with my mum, Mrs. Benedict and Mrs. Nenitt. I also think that Mr. Walker stopped by for a bit as well. I remember that I was getting so hysterical in the meeting that my mum and Mrs. Nenitt went and met elsewhere, so Mrs. Benedict could try and encourage me to sign the agreement on her own. But I remember at that point, it got too much. And I naturally cried (without forcing myself for attention) for the first (and last) time in school. After 2 years of non-stop arguing, broken-relationships, fighting and confusion, I was on the verge of just giving up for good. But at this point, it was no longer just the terms of not going near Ms. Baker that was making me emotional, it was the fact that me and Emily had two new girls in our group, who didn't overly want to go up to the special needs unit every day. And I worried that one day, Emily would agree with them. 'How... am I meant... to have... any friends.... If I spend... my time.... Up here,' I sobbed to Mrs. Benedict as she passed me a box of tissues. It was all getting worse. And it seemed as if I wasn't getting the proper help.

It wasn't just the school who were taking precautions. Ms. Baker was also starting to get incredibly wary of my whereabouts and would report me to Mrs. Nenitt every time I was anywhere remotely near her classroom and always refused to leave the classroom if I was anywhere in the building. Whenever she was walking near me in the corridors, she would always look around several times, with a look of fear and nervousness on her face. She also walked as fast as she could, obviously trying to avoid me. I remember once, that I was meant to be in form but instead I was standing near reception with Emily, although I wasn't sure why. I then saw Ms. Baker come out and started to walk towards me. I looked at her. She looked at me. She stopped and turned. But then turned towards me again. With a look of nervousness on her face, she stood rooted to the spot. But just then, two teachers walked past me towards the reception. When they walked past Ms. Baker however, she stopped them and had a quiet word with them. One of the other teachers nodded before all three of them turned round and walked towards me. She was now getting teachers to walk with her as she was getting too scared to walk around alone. This made me angry, so when she walked past me I shouted at the top of my voice. 'I'M NOT GOING TO HURT YOU! STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM ME!' I wasn't sure at that point whether she was scared to walk around me, or not as I didn't overly get it, but the chronology confirmed it. _'Ms. Baker reported that Hannah was standing with her friend Emily outside reception. Ms. Baker stated that she was concerned about her own welfare so didn't try and get past Hannah, who was blocking the pathway. Ms. Baker then made the decision to get another teacher to escort her back to her class._ ' I remember being awful for the rest of that afternoon. Both in my chronology and from my memory I remember sitting in form that afternoon self-harming and feeling really bad. I remember Ms. Wright, my form tutor kept me back after the form. The chronology for that day said: ' _Ms. Wright, Hannah's form tutor reports that during form Hannah was extremely agitated and pulling at her hair. Hannah was telling her form tutor that today would be her last day and that she was going to get excluded. Hannah was saying that she couldn't stop herself. Ms. Wright kept Hannah in after form for her to calm down.'_

Year 10 seemed to go in a pattern. I would hover near Ms. Baker's English room, she would shut her door or get another teacher to stay with her. Even if I was just going to my lesson or waiting for Emily. She would then report me to Mrs. Nenitt and I would either have to stay up in the special needs unit for a while, I would be sent home or a couple of times in year 10 I was even excluded. Reports on my chronology such as 'Hannah was yet again hovering outside Ms. Baker's classroom so Ms. Baker was unable to leave.' and 'Ms. Baker reported to Mrs. Nenitt that Hannah again was standing near her door.' Were quite common.

I think most of the major incidents happened right at the end of September; within a couple of days of each other. The school were trying to keep me away from Ms. Baker as much as they could and in the end I spent most of my English lessons in the Special Needs Unit because they didn't want me to go near Ms. Baker. I don't think I minded this because I was struggling with self-control and it helped me to be up the Special Needs Unit as far away from her as possible. I remember on this particular day, I had an urge. I had an urge because I had English after, and I knew Emily had Ms. Baker and I didn't. So, instead of going to the unit, I, instead went to English as normal. I knew I was going to get into trouble but I didn't care. I remember meeting my English teacher, Mr. Simpson on way, down the English corridor. I skipped beside him and said, 'you alright sir, I'm in with you today.' But he stopped in mid-corridor and blinked at me. 'I sent your work up to Mrs. Nenitt, as I always do.' He said frowning.

'Yeah well, change of plan.' I said.

'You are not allowed down here Hannah. Go and see Mrs. Nenitt.' He replied.

'Oh you are all so annoying! I'm fed up of English teachers!' I said, turning round. It was true. If it wasn't Mrs. Carksy in year 8, it was Mr. Fotopoulos in year 9 and of course Ms. Baker and Miss Harris were English teachers, as well as people like the head of English, Ms. Allen who seemed to hate me with a passion. By the time I left St James', I was very well known down the English corridor. Once I turned around, I realized we was arguing outside Mr. Fotopoulos's classroom. He stood in his doorway. When I looked at him, he smiled. I smiled back. I think he was thoroughly glad he didn't have to deal with the situation. We got on so much better when he wasn't my head of year. My smile to Mr. Fotopoulos quickly faded as I stormed out of the English block, up to Mrs. Nenitt, who was waiting for me. I didn't even wait for her to complain about me not coming up straight away, I think I had a go at her, I started shouting- saying how I wanted to go and touch Ms. Baker. After about 5 minutes of me shouting at her, I stormed out of the unit. I was fed up of being treated differently. I was fed up of not being in many lessons. I was fed up of being stalked. I was fed up of being taken out of lessons early. And the thing was, none of it was helping me. It was just making it worse. On this occasion, although I wanted to touch Ms. Baker, I was more determined to fight Mrs. Nenitt and be in lessons like everyone else. So innocently, I walked towards my English class. But I didn't even get into the English block, before Mrs. Carksy, my head of year in year 8 stopped me. 'Where are you going Hannah?' She asked.

I pointed to the block as if it was obvious. 'English?'

'No. No you're not.'

'I am.' I argued back.

'Oh- you've got a lesson? That's fine then, off you go.' She said, and ambled off. Feeling more confused and frustrated than ever, I walked into the English block and down the English corridor, only to be stopped yet again. Once I had gotten half way down the corridor, I heard a cold, familiar voice from behind me. 'Hannah where are you going?' The head of English, Ms. Allen was calling after me. I was fed up of being stopped like a criminal and was rapidly starting to lose patience. 'WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M DOING?' I bellowed at her. 'THIS IS AN ENGLISH CORDDIOR, I'M GOING TO MY LESSON. GO AWAY!'

'Straight around that corner to Mr. Simpson Hannah. Don't go anywhere you are not supposed too.'

Amid all the commotion, Ms. Baker was standing in her doorway, listening. I walked past and looked at her as I did. A face of fear looked back at me. Feeling more frustrated than ever I barged into my English classroom without knocking and took an empty seat next to Charlotte. Mr. Simpson blinked at me before saying 'I thought you were meant to be with Mrs. Nenitt. I gave her some work. Where is it?'

Amid all the rush and confusion that was going on in my mind, I came out with something stupid. 'The winds strong today sir. The worksheet blew away.'

The class fell about laughing, whilst Mr. Simpson told me to wait outside until he came and spoke to me. After another shouting match outside the classroom, I stormed back up to the unit, yet again, furious with life. I didn't settle though, when I went back up to Mrs. Nenitt. I remember telling her that the urge to touch Ms. Baker was becoming overwhelming, not that it hadn't been for 2 years before that, though. I remember threatening to go back down to the English block, but that time Mrs. Nenitt was armed and stood in front of the door, blocking it. I remember her then shouting to her secretary to phone the deputy head and my mum. 'I'm going to cut myself to pieces with this.' I said, showing her a pair of scissors. I then preceded to put them down hard on my wrist. 'Can somebody call someone please?' Mrs. Nenitt screamed towards her secretary. 'I can't do this on my own.' 'It'll be much easier for me if I simply wasn't here' I said. 'Give me the scissors. Now.' Mrs. Nenitt said, calmly. Just then, something snapped in me and I felt almost violent. 'Here, have them.' I said throwing them at her. After that, I was excluded for just one day. And I came in a day later feeling more mental and more obsessive than ever.

I also found out something else, a few days after that incident that made me go slightly mad. Not that I wasn't odd already, but this really set me off as I can remember. I found out of an evening, about a week before the end of September. I was a pro at Facebook by this point and I think awfully enough Ms. Baker's daughter put up an odd status on her Facebook. I was at this point I was posed as one of her close friends, and I remember opening a private chat with her and asked her what was wrong. It was that one sentence that made me go, almost loopy. 'Oh it's not much. My parents are splitting up, that's all.' I honestly think I was running and jumping round the house for hours that evening, running into walls shouting at the top of my voice 'MS BAKER'S GETTING A DIVORICE!'

I don't think I calmed down that evening and went into school the next day in the same state. I think I literally jumped on top of Emily when I saw her waiting outside our form room. It couldn't have been long after we got into form after the firebell rang. I can remember jumping up and down when we were lining up to get registered for the firebell. We had to line up in alphabetical order and I kept on coming out of the line to speak to Emily, whilst our form tutor, Ms. Wright tried to register us. When Ms. Wright came over to me, most likely to tell me to stay in line, I told her too. 'Ms. Baker's getting a divorce Miss. She probably got fed up of her husband, he's bare ugly miss and looks gay, I reckon she can move onto someone better.' I remember at this point literally screaming at her. 'Ms. Baker. That one over there!' I shouted. Pointing over to Ms. Baker, who was looking in my direction, as she always did when she knew I was anywhere near her. Concerned about my behavior, Ms. Wright asked me to go and stand to the side with Mrs. Benedict. Happily enough, I think I ran over to both her and Mrs. Nenitt, the SENCO as I had not yet told them the news. When I did, they both looked concerned. 'I'm not aware of this. Are you Miss?' Mrs. Nenitt asked Mrs. Benedict. Mrs. Benedict also shook her head. At this point, the forms had been registered so I took a few steps back, still shouting at them. 'She's left him. She can have someone else. SHE CAN HAVE ME! SHE WILL HAVE ME! WATCH ME!' I shouted, turning around to try and track down Emily. 'Emily! Emily!' I shouted at the top of my voice. 'Where's she gone?' I asked looking around for her. 'Do you want to come up to the unit Hannah?' Mrs. Nenitt asked

'Oh there she is, I got her.' I said, ignoring Mrs. Nenitt and literally running over to Emily. The chronology was quite accurate on that one, actually. It stated ' _Hannah was extremely excited at the fire bell, jumping around and shouting that Ms. Baker get getting a divorce. Hannah told Mrs. Nenitt and Mrs. Benedict that she found out about the divorce from Ms. Baker's daughter's Facebook. Ms. Baker is informed as no one yet knows of this information_.'

Year 10- Moving On

By the 29th of September, life had gotten to its peak. I had a broken relationship with almost everyone. I argued with just about anyone and everyone, the two new girls in our group didn't like me either, Charlotte had announced the day before that event though she still liked me I drove her mad as I always spoke about Ms. Baker, I didn't get on with anyone really. It was an odd day; as it was a normal day until about 10 minutes before 3 o clock; I had a 1:1 meeting with Mrs. Benedict and I don't know what made me walk straight out the door of the support centre. I just remember shouting hysterically back to her as I left the unit. 'I'm going to touch her! And do god knows what else too her!' I thought she wasn't going to follow me, but she did, calling after me, 'Hannah stop' and 'I do not appreciate this.' And when we reached the English block she called too me 'All the work we have done these past few years will be broken if you don't stop now!' But I didn't listen, I had a few broken relationships in the past, another wasn't going to hurt. But I did stop at the end, at the top of the English corridor. Waiting. 'As soon as her class comes out,' I muttered. I think Mrs. Benedict would have tried to get someone, if it wasn't for the fact that I don't think she wanted to leave me. I think she thought I was being unpredictable, I don't think she knew what I was capable of doing. And I don't think I did either. The bell went and crowds of students came piling from their English rooms towards the door. Among them, was my sister, Eva. Mrs. Benedict literally grabbed her arm and said for her to get our mum to come to reception. The threat of my mum, however wasn't going to change anything. I was still rooted to the spot. It didn't take long for the loads of students to empty out the corridors, and the corridors were deserted. However, I still felt rooted to the spot. I don't know how I felt, I just knew that I was a bit of a mess. I was shaking so much I couldn't move, although I wanted to take a move down towards her room there was something that was keeping my feet firmly on the floor. It shows that I did have self-control that I didn't go and touch her. I'm not sure if I even wanted to touch her, I just wanted to be near her. We stood there for a while, I was watching Ms. Baker who was fully aware that I was there. She kept on swapping classrooms, Going into Mrs. Carksy's and Mr. Fotopoulos's and then onto Ms. Allen's. Ms. Allen even came out of her classroom with Ms. Baker by her side. She looked at me. 'What is SHE doing here?' She said, hatefully to Ms. Baker. Which I thought was slightly rude considering I had a name and she knew perfectly well what it was. Ms. Baker sort of sighed and said, 'She's after me.'

I still was stood rooted to the spot, until Mrs. Carksy came past me and Mrs. Benedict.

'Is everything alright Miss?' Mrs. Carksy asked Mrs. Benedict.

'No, not at all Miss.' Mrs. Benedict replied.

When Mrs. Benedict told her the story, Mrs. Carksy automatically thought she could solve it by asking me, irritably to come to reception with her. 'Err, No!' I replied 'you can't tell me what to do, you are like two heads of years ago.'

'Now!' She said, aggressively. At this point I knew I wasn't going to touch Ms. Baker so I thought there was no point fighting any longer. 'Fine! Alright! I'm going. Happy?' I asked Mrs. Carksy.

'No, I'm not really happy at all Hannah.' She replied.

When we got to reception, my mum was waiting with a support assistant. 'Is everything ok?' My mum asked Mrs. Benedict and Mrs. Carksy.

Mrs. Carksy didn't say anything, she simply sighed and shook her head.

I think my mum let out a deep sigh. She honestly looked like she was going to cry. Although I didn't remember the next bit, it sounds quite true. Apparently the school weren't going to exclude me, according to the chronology. It stated 'Mrs. Benedict met with Hannah's mum and internal isolation was discussed for the following day. However Hannah stated she would escape this room and go and see Ms. Baker. Hannah was excluded for 3 days.'

I went in a few days later, but didn't last for very long. I had a meeting in the morning with Mrs. Benedict, Mrs. Nenitt and my mum. Mrs. Benedict decided that she wasn't sure whether she wanted to work with me anymore because of what happened the other day. I think my mum and Mrs. Benedict left half way through because I remember at one point I just remember it being me and Mrs. Nenitt. I think we were having an argument or something, as I remember shouting at some point in the meeting, the words I had considered saying for the past 2 years but never quite came out. 'Kick me out! Expel Me! It can't be that hard? Mrs. Benedict hates me, Charlotte hates me, Ms. Baker's terrified of me, none of the teachers like me and I don't like them. The only person I have a proper relationship with is Emily and that's just not enough anymore. Look, I know it will be hard to change school but I'm sure it won't be worse than this. I really do think it's for the best. It's gone far too far.'

Mrs. Nenitt stared at me for a couple of seconds before picking up her phone. 'Are you sure?' She asked.

I nodded.

I still think it was a good decision I made. Although I still remember saying to Mrs. Nenitt 'I know it will be hard changing schools, but I'm sure it won't be worse than this.' But in many ways, I was quite wrong. Ironically and I think more annoyingly for me, Ms. Baker left St James' two or three months after I did.

Even though I had a rough time at St James', most of my memories are there. I was determined, although I had had a bad last week, that I could say goodbye to everyone I wanted to say goodbye too and to thank them for their help, if I thought they had given it to me that was. Mrs. Nenitt organized a 'leaving party' in the end, so I could say goodbye to my friends (or... friend) and teachers. When she asked what staff and students I wanted to invite, I immediately said Mr. Fotopoulos and Mr. Erasmus. Year 10 really wasn't the same without them. Both of them happily came, along with Mrs. Nenitt, Mrs. Benedict, Ms. Wright- my year 10 form tutor and Emily (I wasn't sad about saying goodbye to Emily because I knew I would see her all the time out of school). At first that was the only people that Mrs. Nenitt could organize too come. At first I really requested anyone to come, but after she said only a couple of people were coming, I started to request individual people. Madly enough, I wanted Mrs. Loizou to be there. I had had her for French for some of year 7, year 8, year 9 and the beginning of Year 10 and I was secretly quite fond of her by this point. I also thought about my old form tutors, Mr. Jones from year 8 and my form tutor from year 7, Mrs. Mostert. My French teacher sent her apologies that she had to go and pick her children up from school straight away and I don't even think Mr. Jones got asked, but in the end my sister saved the day and managed to get my old drama and music teacher too come. I'm glad that I did say goodbye to them and Mrs. Nenitt even created an idea of a leaving book and good all the staff to write messages in. It was quite an emotional goodbye- but it was especially a sad goodbye to Mrs. Benedict. I had worked with Mrs. Benedict since the end of year 8 and every time I had a problem I would go straight to her. We had especially worked closely with her in the past month, as I had spent my P.E and Citizenship lessons with her. I was also going to miss Mr. Fotopoulos, as although we hadn't been exactly best friends, I didn't actually value his patience and kindness till beginning of Year 10 when I didn't have him anymore. And I was to realize at my next school, that not a lot of people were as patient as him. All the things I said and done to him, he still wanted to come and say goodbye. In a way, it felt like I had spent most of my year 9 with him, whether it was in isolation with him, endless detention, sitting back of his classroom or mostly just arguing with him in the corridors and classrooms. I still remember when I asked him at the party 'Will you forget me quickly, sir?'

I remember him smiling and saying 'I don't think I will ever forget you, Hannah.' When it was time for Mr. Fotopoulos to leave as he had to go and supervise homework club, he came over to me and held out his hand. 'Good luck Hannah. Have confidence in yourself, you will be great in whatever you choose to do.' I shook his hand, happily. Even now, I have fond memories of him. He's even asked after me a few times when he's seen my mum at my sister's opening evenings. Whenever my mum says she's going to my brother's open evening the first thing I say is 'Say hi too little Fotopoulos from me!'

I still feel bad about the way I treated Ms. Baker. I'll never forget her, there's no mistaking that. I didn't immediately get over her when I left St James', it must have taken me at least a year to get over her properly. I still think of her now, a lot. She wasn't like Miss Harris. She wasn't like the obsessions I had in year 7. She wasn't like the obsession I had at my next school. She was just.... Different. I still think about her a lot now. I wouldn't say I'm obsessed, but when I think of her still she seems different. I haven't seen her since the 30th September 2009 and now, 5 years later her face is still fresh in my memory.

So it was goodbye to St James' and Ms. Baker. But my story doesn't end there. There was so much more around the corner.

PART TWO:

STOCKPORT

Year 10- A Fresh Start

It took a little while to find another school for me. My parents wanted to find a school that was perfect for me and where I would have minimal issues. But unfortunately wherever I went, there seemed to be an issue.

We looked at four schools in the 'local' area. I say local, but St James' was the only really local school in the town I lived in. We had to start to venture out to towns nearby. None of the schools really impressed me, but I suppose I had to go somewhere.

In the end, my parents chose a comprehensive in the neighboring town, about a 20 minute drive. I started there on the 23rd November 2009.

From November to February I had a lot going on outside of school which had a big impact on my new school, Stockport. Apart from the massive change of moving school and having new teachers, classes and surroundings, my Nan also passed away that December. And to top it off, my parents split up in February and I had to adapt to half and half living. All in the space of that four months. I can remember being awful when I first started, the amount of time that 'On Call' where after me was uncountable, I threatened teachers and bunked lessons. I even threatened to overdose with paracetomal on one occasion and ended up in front of the school nurse and the deputy head, shouting abuse at them while popping pills out into my hand. It was all too much and the special needs department didn't win any awards either...

It was only when I started when I felt the realization of being in school but without being with Ms. Baker hit me. I think I even started to go a bit odd in the head. I remember an incident when I first started, when I kept on telling members of the special needs department that I could see her. Obviously I couldn't, but I think I more wanted to see her there so I imagined her to be there. I remember I actually had an argument with one special needs staff about it, as we walked from one side of the school to G4 (G4 was the special needs unit at the school) and once we got nearer I said I could see Ms. Baker, and that she was standing in front of me. She wanted to talk to me. The woman looked at me as if I was mad and hit the wall where I was standing and said 'Look, she's not there.' But I refused to believe that she wasn't there. She was. Just in my imagination. After that, feeling in an odd mood and refused to follow her any further, and decided to stay put on the spot. She called on-call for me then. (On-call were senior members of staff usually who shared shifts on patrolling the corridors and taking badly behaved students out of class and putting them in isolation, etc) The on-call threat I was used to now, so I stayed where I was, staring at the wall I told the support staff that Ms. Baker was. When the On-Call teacher came, I recognized her as the head of key stage 3. 'Do you want to go and sit down with me Hannah?' She asked, pointing to a bench. Still in an odd mood, I shook my head. But then changed my mind and nodded my head, going to sit down with her. 'Someone contacted me and said you were seeing ghosts.' She said.

'Well that's a lie! She's not dead!' I said, aggressively.

'Who?' She asked.

I didn't answer.

'What's her name?' She asked, softly.

'Ms. Baker.' I replied.

'How old is she?'

'Like 48,'

'What does she look like?'

I wish everyone could have just dealt with me like she did. Just sit down, and nicely talking to me about it. Not jumping to conclusions or getting aggressive. Just talking to me about her. And it proved to of worked; as after I had a conversation with her, I went up to G4 without arguing.

The hierarchy of the special needs team were different than they were at St James'. For one, at Stockport there were sort of two heads of special needs. One was the SENCO, Mrs. Green, who I didn't really like and the other was the head of Inclusion, Mrs. Edwards. I didn't like her either. There was also my 'key worker' Mrs. Lewis. She was sort of like the new Mrs. Benedict, although she only had four students (all in my year) that she was in charge off. I think that was a better system that Stockport adopted, to have one support staff who is in charge of only 3 or 4 students, whereas Mrs. Benedict was a learning mentor to the whole school. Although I agreed with the system, I didn't overly like Mrs. Lewis. In fact, she became the new Mr. Fotopoulos for the fact that I spent most of my time arguing with her, however, unlike Mr. Fotopoulos I don't have any respect for her now. Because unlike Mr. Fotopoulos, she was meant to be trained. She was paid to help people like me who were autistic. However, she was so un-trained it was unreal and she even admitted that. She spent half her time getting very aggressive and impatient with me, which just made me be aggressive and get annoyed back. I hated change, and if something changed and I couldn't cope they would be non-compliant and tell me to get on with it. When there was non-uniform days where I didn't like the change, no one sat and spoke to me about it, they simply said 'You have to come into school. If not I will mark you as truanting.' Like at St James', I felt like there was a battle every day. I didn't get on with any of them from the outset and I think that's what immediately set it apart from St James'. I had no one I could talk too and no one I could trust. Even though I didn't like Mrs. Lewis, if I ever wanted to talk to her she would either say she was busy or get aggressive or give me a stupid comment. Like I remember when I was nervous about army day because there was going to be loud noises, which I didn't like, she simply said; 'Put your fingers in your ears then.' And walked off. I was statemented by this time, with 20 hours of support a week. I had 30 hours of support a week, but no one gave me a minute of their time.

Secondly, the hierarchy of people who dealt with my general behaviour were different. If I was in trouble at St James's it would be straight to Mr. Fotopoulos or Mrs. Nenitt. However, it was different at Stockport. If I wasn't sent to Mrs. Lewis for being in trouble, it was most likely the deputy head, Mr. Hall. I got on well with him, as he was also my History and ICT teacher. It was mostly Mr. Hall anyway. Mr. Hall was a very patient and fair man. He often saw my side of the story as well as the member of staff I argued with and was never aggressive and angry with me. He was also very understanding; which is very unusual in my opinion as not many people even try and be understanding. I remember him saying to me once, when I was standing in his office after arguing with a member of staff over a room change, 'I know it must be really hard for you.' He said it with such sympathy and empathy as if he really meant it. No one had ever said that to me before. No one had ever thought what it was like for me.

It took a relatively long time for me to get another obsession. I suppose that may have been because of family issues as well as settling into the new school. I only went up until break time until the Easter holiday and went up until lunch till the end of April. It wasn't ideal and probably really affected my education, but I think it's the only way my mum got me to go into school. The friendship group was difficult and didn't make a proper group friends till the end of year 10, which was when I agreed to stay for lunch. But in March- when it happened, I was too busy to be to be thinking about friendships. I was even too busy to think about having another obsession first, as I still wasn't really over Ms. Baker. But it came.

Year 10- A Mixture of Feelings

It didn't take me long after I started at Stockport, to get myself in a spot of trouble. I was still obsessed with Ms. Baker, in so many ways. I saw Emily about once a week, and she usually came round mine. Always, for the first five minutes of us seeing each other, she always gave me a 'Ms. Baker update.' But one time when she came over, I remember it was after Christmas, she had another piece of news, that made me go slightly mad. 'She's dating Mr. Simpson,' Emily told me. Mr. Simpson was an English teacher at the school and I had him for a while, while I was there. I also found out, from Facebook and various other sources that Ms. Baker had also split from her husband. Emily told me that they were always in a room together and apparently the whole school knew. Although I was gullible and would believe anything, somehow, even though it all added up, I needed more proof than school gossip. I logged onto one of my many fake Facebooks, as Ms. Baker's friend to ask her, but before I could start up a conversation a status written in capital letters came up on my homepage, from Ms. Baker's daughter herself. 'I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU CHEETED ON DAD FOR 4 YEARS, WHAT KIND OF A MOTHER ARE YOU?' I think it both took me and Emily a few minutes to digest what we just read. 'What does she mean?' I asked Emily, although I knew perfectly well what she meant. I quickly clicked the 'comment' button to see if I could find anything else out. The first comment was 'Wow, who with?!' and with my heart beating faster than I think it had ever done before, I read her reply. 'Some English teacher called Michael.'

'Michael .... It is, Michael Simpson, its Mr. Simpson. You mean to tell me.' I said, more or less to myself 'That I've been worrying about her and her husband, when it was really her and the man down the end of the corridor I had to be watching out for....all this time.' I was speechless after that, I honestly couldn't believe it.

I felt angrier than ever, all the memories came back from year 8 when I stated that I wanted to kill her husband. Although, the first thing I did think of was, thank god I wasn't at St James's. If I was still there and found out about the two of them, god knows what I would have done to him. Obviously I couldn't exactly go and find Mr. Simpson, although I knew perfectly well where he was. It was one of those moments, where something clicked inside of me and I did it before I fully knew what I was doing. I remember quickly creating a fake email address, obviously I wasn't stupid enough to pose as myself. Although at the time, I think I was so hysterical that I could have easily done it as myself. I think the first email was quite calm, really. I think it went something along the lines of, 'I don't know how you think you can get away with it. I know you are sleeping with my girl.'

They started to get more aggressive as time went on and within an hour I think I had sent him a series of emails, and I think they got more serious and severe as they went on. Although I still believe I had no sexual feelings for Ms. Baker, I still couldn't bare the thought of someone being with her.

You didn't have to be a top chief inspector to figure out that the emails were sent by me, although I think I told my mum first. I don't know why I did, I don't think I could have helped myself. But I was glad I told her because I think she then sent an email to Mr. Simpson, or maybe even spoke to him on the phone. Of course she still had connections with the school as my sister went there. He was quite good about it actually, considering he could have easily called the police. Even though he was 'sleeping with my girl,' he seemed alright, after all.

Another thing also happened at that time. I remember it was in January 2010, exactly a year after it happened before. I had been speaking to James on and off since I left St James's and spoke to him quite a lot on MSN Messenger. I hadn't seen him since I left in September, so I couldn't even see how we started to go out again. I think we were just desperate. I think I was more focused on trying to get over Ms. Baker, whereas he, being a boy had other things on his mind....

It was very different from the 4 day affair we had in Year 9. I think I saw him three times, round each other's houses, but most of it was online and through texting and I think that must have been the most damaging part. I don't think I even believed he had Asperger Syndrome for a long while as he didn't really show any signs or symptoms of it, up until then really. I think my mum wasn't too keen on the whole thing, but couldn't really do much about it. Going upstairs was completely out of the question when he was at my house, although his mum let us go upstairs when I went round his, which maybe showed how much his mum underestimated what he was really like. Like probably most teenage relationships it was all talk but not actually doing a lot, although he was shoving all these graphic ideas in my direction. I think I said yes but in my mind I doubted myself, I suddenly did feel vulnerable and after the 'It's ok, because we can lock my bedroom door' statement, I started to feel uneasy about seeing him at all.

Me and Emily amused ourselves though. We would often be on MSN messenger of an evening- usually telling James that I was my own. He would send me inappropriate and graphic messages which me and Emily would usually sit there laughing at. However, as time went on I started to think he was going a bit too far. Me and Emily were sitting there once of an evening, amusing ourselves as usual. He sent a message saying something like 'I've got a good idea, I can show myself on webcam... you can watch...'

'Show what?' I asked Emily. 'I don't think you want to see...' Emily said slowly...... 'Let me show you my..... Then you can see.' He messaged back. My heart suddenly dropped. 'Emily.... Does he mean?' 'I think so...'

We both then suddenly jumped at the ringing sound coming from the laptop, which meant he was video calling me. 'Don't you dare answer it!' I said to Emily, as I could see her hand going towards the laptop. 'Oh come on, don't you wanna see what it looks like? You're going to be seeing a lot more of it soon.' Emily replied. Something inside of me then clicked suddenly and I ended up shouting 'No, No, it's disgusting, he's disgusting, it's all disgusting!' And with a rush of emotions I pressed down on the power button which instantly turned it off. Even though I was 14 years old and sex seemed to be passionately on the minds of most of my peers, I still found the idea utterly repulsive.

Even though I say I found the idea repulsive, to shut him up, in the end I agreed to meet up and have sex with him. It seemed easier than having him nagging me. Although as soon as we got closer to the date the worse the whole situation got. The texts I got were getting worse. I tried to answer them as flatly as I could, so not to encourage the conversation. But one text took things way too far. It was an incredibly long text and graphically said what he wanted me to look like, with and without clothes on. I didn't understand it at the time, but he had obviously been spending time watching porn on his computer, not 'Playing Sims' like he always said he was. I don't think I hardly knew what porn was, I think I just knew it was dirty and something you weren't meant to watch. He had managed to get the image of a 'perfect' woman and had an idea that it was going to be what I looked like. I don't even think that the most popular and image conscious girls in our year group looked like the description he had just given me, let alone anyone as uncool and unpopular as me. As I read his description and started to get worked up with myself. 'Why does he want me too look like that Emily? Who does look like that?' I knew I wasn't perfect, in fact, I was incredibly far from it. I was neither attractive, intelligent nor overly nice. Although people have argued with that in the past, that's the general view I have of myself. It ended at that text. My mum actually ended it for me, and blocked his number on my phone so he couldn't text me again.

After that, my perception of myself and men completely changed. I never was confident about myself, but I think after that I believed I was totally worthless. And as for men, I didn't want to ever go near one again. He made me automatically think all men were like that. I still don't overly have much confidence in myself now, but I have a more take me or leave me attitude, not caring what people think.

But with James aside, there was yet another hurdle around the corner...

Year 10- A New Obsession

I remember it was the 23rd March 2010. I was about to sit a Geography mock exam. I always, at Stockport sat my exams in the language huts, huts set apart from the rest of the school were languages were taught and the difficult kids were sat during exams. I was in there as I apparently needed 'breaks' and a computer, as my writing was quite messy. I remember I was just sitting there, minding my own business, in one of the French classrooms, about to start my mock, when something happened. A woman, who had appeared out of nowhere came into the classroom to collect her coat, and then went out again. I sat there thinking for a minute. As suddenly I felt for that woman. That random woman I didn't even know anything about. Suddenly I felt for her. It was so odd, as I didn't know her at all. I did know her name, however as she was married to my head of house and citizenship teacher, Mr. Young. I instantly felt worried. I knew how much destruction I caused with the Ms. Baker obsession and I knew how much distress and fear I gave Ms. Baker. There was no way I could let that happen again. No, I thought. I was older now, that means I should have more self-control. I have self-control. I will get through this, with only a year and a few months left of education altogether. But infact, I seemed to of had less control at Stockport than St James's. As at St James's, I didn't touch Ms. Baker. But I can't say the same for Mrs. Young.

I kept my new obsession with Mrs. Young under wraps for a month or so. I didn't want Stockport to get upset and over emotional, especially as they knew exactly what happened at St James's. But like the obsession with Ms. Baker, it started off fine. It started off minor. Apart from this time, I knew it was going to get worse. I just had to wait for it to get worse.

It had to of been May before I finally let it out to the world. And knowing me, I let people know in style. I remember it all started in a 1:1 with Mrs. Lewis (as it seemed to do a lot after a while). I remember on this particular day I still hadn't told anyone about my obsession, but I was seeming to lose control and I think me and Mrs. Lewis were having quite a good conversation, so I think that it gave me the confidence to talk to her about it. I remember I think she was quite calm about it at first, but I, on the other hand was getting in a more wound up status about it. I think it was due to the fact that I had citizenship next lesson, with her husband, Mr. Young. 'Do you think Mr. Young will be angry?' I remember asking Mrs. Lewis. And this is where she went wrong, as back to me she said 'I don't know. Probably?'

'But why?!' I asked Mrs. Lewis, getting more emotional by the second. At this point, I wanted to please everyone.

'Well they are married, aren't they?' She asked.

'As I am fully aware. But seriously, he's a grown man? I'm not going to get angry with me about it is he? I'm hardly going to take his wife away?'

'I don't know Hannah,' She said, irritably 'I'm not him am I?'

It was obvious that at the time, that I shouldn't have gone to Mr. Young's lesson, but I don't really think Mrs. Lewis thought about it. I went to citizenship in a bad mood. I walked in to Mr. Young's classroom not even looking at him. I couldn't bare to look at him. 'Oh Hannah,' He said as he saw me and started to talk to me about him cancelling my detention with someone for some reason. 'Thanks, sir,' I said, still not looking at him. And then suddenly I had the urge- I had to find her. I stood up quickly took my bag from under the table and said to him. 'I've got to go somewhere.'

'Where?' He asked.

'Just.... Out there.' I said and ran. I walked fast. I didn't know where I was going, I just carried on walking till I walked into Mrs. Lewis in the corridor. As soon as I saw her I shouted loudly 'I can't go back in there, I don't know what I will do to him!'

'Don't talk like that about members of staff,' she snapped at me.

'Why? What you going to do?' I asked aggressively back.

In the end, Mrs. Lewis gave me two options, either I could go back to citizenship or go and sit with the deputy head, Mr. Hall. I, who couldn't be bothered to explain myself to Mr. Hall as well so I decided to go back to citizenship. However, I didn't settle for the rest of that lesson and instead stabbed myself with pens and pencils. My self-harming was now getting more genuine, and I did it because it generally helped me. When I felt really obsessed or angry it felt a release to let it out. Once the lesson ended, I went up to Mr. Young to get him to sign something for me. 'Can you sign this sir?' I asked, throwing it on his desk.

'Did Mrs. Lewis tell you why I walked earlier?' I asked.

'Yes, she said you were worrying about an exam. Don't be. When is it?'

'I don't have an exam,' I said through gritted teeth.

'Why then?' He asked,

I could tell him now- I thought. He seemed to be willing to listen.

But no. 'No reason,' I said, walking towards the door. But then I suddenly had an urge. Something happened inside of me. I simply had to tell him. I turned round once I got to the door and it all came out 'I have feelings for your wife!' I said before running out of the class and down the stairs.

It started to get bad after that. It was all coming back. It seemed like Ms. Baker had gone and Mrs. Young had replaced her. I often spent many frustrating times up in G4 because I couldn't concentrate on my lessons. It was a shame really, as I was just starting to settle in. I had made friends with a girl who was in most of my lessons and was starting to warm towards her group of friends as well. As soon as I had finally settled in, everything was going wrong.

It didn't take me long, after the obsession started to get bad, for me to nearly get removed. And that was another thing about Stockport, I did a lot of things there that St James's wouldn't even question me about and I would do the same things at Stockport which would see me in front of the deputy head. And what happened on the 24th June was no exception, yet I still feel as if I did anything wrong. It was Healthy school's week at Stockport, which meant a lot of change for me. It meant we were off timetable for a week, to run, catch balls and learn about eating fruit. However, I refused from the outset to take a week out of my GCSE studying to do any such thing. And for the first (and last) time, Stockport agreed with me and let me sit up in G4 and catch up on coursework for the week. Although I don't think I really took it seriously and spent most of the week writing up booklets on Nazi Germany and the Holocaust. For fun. But by Wednesday I think I started to get slightly bored. I remember then going through all the files on the schools computer, in the student share files were teachers put work and presentations and photos. I was looking through them casually at first- but after a while I thought that I could maybe get a picture of Mrs. Young to look at, at home. So I immediately looked in the 'French' and 'Spanish' folders as she was a languages teacher. But there was nothing there. In the end I got fed up and started to look at random PowerPoints. One random PowerPoint however, had a picture of Mrs. Young on it. It made me jump at first, as I wasn't expecting it to be there. Before I could do anything else I immediately saved it to my documents and sent it home via email. Done. Simple. Obviously not.

The next day, Thursday was a bit different. Mrs. Lewis was in G4 to lend assistant to other students in my year who were catching up on coursework. Although I needed no support, I sat next to her anyway, as I was feeling a bit lonely up in G4 all day on my own. I sat next to her at a table and had a laptop. I remember the first thing I wanted to do was get the picture of Mrs. Young up so I could look at her, but I didn't want anyone to see her. I was also sitting with a girl called Jessica, who Mrs. Lewis was mainly helping. She had a number of emotional conditions as well as cerebral palsy. We got on most of the time, but as I always put things across as they were, she sometimes got very upset about that. As soon as I got the picture of Mrs. Young up, I immediately started my work. I tried to log onto my learning portal online, but it wouldn't let me. So I told Mrs. Lewis, who took the laptop next door to get someone to look at it. She was gone for a little while, during which time I drew and vaguely chatted to Jessica. I was about to drift off into a world of my own when I heard the sound of the printer printing something out, which a boy went to go and collect. He came over to our table and said, 'whose is this?'

'Jessica's I think,' pointing my pencil over in Jessica's direction, not even looking at him.

'It's yours I think,' he said. 'It was on your screen.' I looked up quickly and took it from his hands. Indeed, it was the same picture of Mrs. Young that I had up on my screen, but it also had text written underneath. 'Hannah was looking at this, first lesson, 24th June 2010.'

'What the hell?' I said loudly, which caused the head of G4 to come over and ask me what was wrong. 'Someone's been telling lies about me!' I said. 'Now everyone's going to know and everything. It's all Mrs. Lewis's fault!' I said, aggressively, most likely.

'I'll sort it.' She said, taking the paper off me before going into the special needs office. She came back a while later with Mrs. Lewis and Mrs. Edwards, the head of inclusion. 'Right Hannah what's going on?' Mrs. Edwards asked me.

'Nothing!' I snapped at her back.

'You have been saving members of staff to your documents,' she said.

People were starting to stare now.

'I was looking at a picture of Mrs. Young, it's on the student share files for people to look at.' I argued back.

Mrs. Edwards could see that people were starting to stare. 'Shall we go next door Hannah and talk about this?' She asked.

I nodded and got up. 'Coming Mrs. Lewis?' Mrs. Edwards asked.

'Oh yeah, let's go and invite all the members off staff,' I said sarcastically as we walked into a little room. We all sat down, me trying to sit as far away and Mrs. Lewis and Goddard as possible.

'So,' Mrs. Edwards said, 'why have you been saving members of staff to your documents?'

'I HAVEN'T!' I replied loudly. 'Oh wait- no, I did. Sorry. Yeah. Saved one of Mrs. Young. Sent it home.'

I told them the whole story and that I was meant to delete it, but she didn't grasp.

'This is serious Hannah,' she said.

'No it's not. I look at pictures all the time of Mrs. Young. And Ms. Baker. At home.'

'This is school Hannah,' she said.

I tried to argue with her back, explaining that I had done much worse things in the past than save a picture to my documents, but Mrs. Edwards came back with, 'This is unacceptable. You know Hannah, I had been really starting to like you recently,' she said, without knowing whether that was a compliment or not, she carried on. 'You have gone from being rude and horrible all the time to only being rude and horrible half the time.' It might have been a fair enough statement, but I still argued back. 'Actually, I'm not rude at all, am I Mrs. Lewis? And you can ask all my teachers, I'm never rude to them.'

'I'm sure you aren't Hannah, but I only deal with you up here.' She said.

There was a pause.

'So this is it? You gonna chuck me out?'

'I don't want too Hannah. I am going to have to chat to the senior leadership team about this.'

'I ain't been here for long.' I continued. 'Only got shipped out from St James's in September.'

She looked sympathetically and smiled.

I had a meeting later that day with Ms. Jackson , one of the deputy head teachers. She was my work related learning teacher and I didn't overly like her, as I often argued with her how pointless her subject was and how I didn't like to do it. But in that meeting, she seemed to be such a nice and understanding teacher. Too nice and understanding probably, as I started to open up too her. I explained how I follow her sometimes as I want to be near her. It turned out, that wasn't the right thing to say and I was sent home. They told me to come back on Tuesday to have a meeting with them, too see if I would carry on at Stockport. It was times like this when I really pined to have someone like Mrs. Benedict. I had no one to talk to at Stockport and I didn't like Mrs. Lewis. Although Mrs. Benedict sometimes passed information onto Mrs. Nenitt or Mr. Fotopoulos, she was still there when I needed someone to talk to. She didn't judge or tell me off. She didn't send me home or exclude me when I said something slightly shocking.

I decided over that weekend that I had to be good- I couldn't let anything else like that get to me. I was less than a year away from my GCSE's and despite all I had gone through at school, I had to get something out of it. So I tried hard and I settled with friends and for 8 months, I kept it on the lowdown. I still liked her and was still obsessed with her. But don't let this fool you, I don't decide when or not to be obsessed with someone. I was still obsessed with her, but I do generally have quiet periods in my life. But it wasn't quite over yet. It was all going to get so much worse. So much worse than it had been before.

Year 10/Year 11- Useless Support

Things had just started to calm down at Stockport, obsessions wise when another difficult period of my Year 10 life began. Since May, teachers had been talking non-stop about Year 10's graduating into Year 11. Stockport liked to be different for some reason and the academic year started at the beginning of July and not September, although we still had the six week holiday at the end of July. I think Stockport did this so everyone could get used to their new timetables before September. Although it wasn't just this I had to worry about, Stockport had also adopted this 'Graduation' process for all year 10's. This irritated me, as no one 'graduated' in British secondary schools as it's not a term that we use, Stockport just wanted to be different. The process meant that everyone who was behind on coursework would be kept back in Year 10 whilst everyone else went into Year 11. This was also something that didn't happen in British schools so I'm really surprised Stockport got away with it. Although with my intensifying obsession with Mrs. Young, I wasn't really bothered whether I graduated or not. Although I was about too.

About a week or so before we were due to graduate, one of the deputy heads, Ms. Jackson pulled me out of one of my classes to speak to me about the state of my Work Related Learning Coursework. Work related learning was far from my favourite subject and I was not too fond of Ms. Jackson teaching me it either. We never really got on and argued a lot when I first started Stockport. I remember throwing a pack of Parcetomal at her after threatening to overdose, before labelling her as a 'tranny' after she aggressively told me to sort my school tie out. I was in no way discriminating her by calling her a tranny, it was just a small dose of the truth. I think that got me a behavior referral, isolation and a trip to see Mr. Hall, the other deputy head. With this aside, I tried to be calm with Ms. Jackson as she criticized my coursework. I wasn't happy with this and ended up shouting at her. 'You know what, I don't even like your stupid lesson, it's pointless and you're lucky I even turn up to it. I've got English, ICT and History coursework to catch up on so the last lesson I'm going to worry about is Work related learning.'

She took a deep breath in response and looked at me. 'I'm the second highest person in this school, the only one above me is the headmaster. If you wish to discuss his curriculum with him, you may do so.'

My science teacher, Mr. Cooper was also watching on at this point. I think he was about to intervene before I started off on rant.

'Well actually you wrong, as Mr. Hall is also a deputy head and in my opinion a much better one than you are. Do you not know the hierarchy of this school? I'm fed up of all of you, I'm actually not too keen on any of you right now. I'm fed up of you and him.' I said, now pointing at Mr. Cooper, 'saying that I'm not going to graduate. I DON'T LIKE WORK RELATED LEARNING AND I DON'T LIKE SCIENCE SO I WISH YOU TO LEAVE ME ALONE!' I, at this point turned around and stormed off. I really got on with Mr. Cooper most of the time, but he too also had an obsession with our science BTEC group graduating. Which was quite annoying, especially as my science coursework was in an ever worser state than Work Related Learning.

I had no more said to me about graduation. No warning, no support and help from the special needs team. Nothing. I went in on the first of July, forgetting that this was the day Year 10's were apparently graduating. The whole year group had a graduation assembly in the morning. As I didn't do assembly's (I never had liked them and it was one of the things Stockport accepted and dealt with) I went straight too my first lesson, Geography. Me and my geography teacher happily spoke about European capitals that we had visited and the case study we were studying at the moment. We were so engaged in geographical debating, that we had completely lost track of time and it took us a while to realize the rest of the year group were back really late from assembly.

'I wander where they could all be....' I wandered, out loud.

'I reckon they are all being graduated.' My teacher said. 'It might just be me and you for this lesson.'

The class did eventually come back, all of them managing to reach Year 11. 'You happy?' I asked my friend as she sat down next to me. 'Yeah! Loads are being held back though!'

I almost thought I had made it till Year 11 myself, before the familiar face of Mrs. Lewis came into my class asking me to go to G4 with her. 'I'll do this work in G4 and hand it back to you miss.' I told my teacher as I gathered up my geography books and belongings and went out of the class to Mrs. Lewis Although I tried to start fresh every time I spoke to Mrs. Lewis, I could tell there was a reason she pulled me out of geography. 'What?' I asked, irritably as we got out of the classroom. 'Why are you people always pulling me out of class?'

'Your coursework's not up to date so you will stay in G4 until September. Here's your new year 11 timetable.' She said it so flatly and so emotionless. I didn't know what too get angry about first, the fact that I hadn't graduated or the fact that I had a new timetable. None of the situations Mrs. Lewis seemed to be eager to support me in, so I started off on yet again another rage. 'What do you mean I haven't graduated? There's no way I'm in G4 till September, you can forget that one.' I then took a glance at my new timetable. Everything was wrong. I could feel my insides tightening and my stress levels rising. We usually kept the same teachers for Year 10 and Year 11 at Stockport, Mrs. Lewis, and the special needs team and my subject teachers had told me this repeatedly. However, half of my subject teachers seemed to of changed. 'Why have I been moved down sets in Work Related Learning and Citizenship? Why have I got Mr. Pickering for citizenship? I ain't going nowhere near his citizenship class. Have Ms. Jackson and Mr. Young kicked me out of there class because they can't bare to see my face? WELL GUESS WHAT, I DON'T LIKE THEM EITHER!'

'Hannah, I can't change the timetable.' She said. No words of support, not even an 'are you ok with this change Hannah?'

I glanced at my timetable again, spotting more errors. 'Who's that teacher I have for History. That's not Mr. Hall's initials, you'd said I would have Mr. Hall, Mr. Hall said I would have him, YOUR ALL A BUNCH OF LIARS? And what's this one? It's saying I have BTEC Media 3 times a week? Since when have I done Media as an option? Like never!'

We had reached G4 by this point and Mrs. Lewis was doing her very best to ignore me. G4 was crowded full of Year 10 students who obviously hadn't graduated. Although they were a selected few, most of them needing 1:1 support with work. 'Great.' I said as I saw them. 'I'm stuck up here with a load of sodden idiots.' I didn't mean it at all, I have nothing against people with learning disabilities. Obviously, I would be a bit of hypocrite if I did, I just knew it was going to annoy Mrs. Lewis to the core.

'Just sit down and get on with some coursework.' She said, in her usual tone.

'You know what.' I said, challenging her again. 'No. I'm going to sit over there somewhere and finish off my population pyramid work that my geography teacher has so kindly set me.' And too my word, I walked off to the furthest end of the room and sat down. _Maybe this wouldn't be too bad after all_ I thought, as I colour-coded my pyramid. It would have just been nice if I had a bit of warning about it first. I hadn't settled for very long, however when Mrs. Edwards came up to me. I purposely ignored her and didn't look up at her until she had sat down and was in my personal space. 'Yes?' I asked, impatiently.

'Why are you not listening? Again?'

'Because I simply don't believe in it. How dare you and your team come over without any warning and request for me to sit in G4 until September and change my timetable? Did you really expect me to come skipping into G4 smiling?'

'You need to do your coursework.' She said, flatly. 'Your teachers have been telling you about this for ages Hannah so don't tell me you didn't know.'

Anger rose in side of me. But I held back on my anger and carried on with my work. 'Hannah that's not coursework. Do some coursework. Now.'

'SHUT UP!' I shouted in her face. I don't think I could help it too be honest. She was irritating me so much it just came out.

'Right.' She said, standing up straight. 'On-Call then.'

'Go for it.' I replied, through gritted teeth.

I carried on doing my geography work in half peace and quiet, trying to ignore all of the students around me, most of which couldn't cope with the demands of being in normal lessons. The on-call threat didn't bother me. Usually the on-call teacher would come up and have a word with me then let me get on with it. I didn't look up from my work again until I heard the friendly voice of my science teacher, Mr. Cooper who was obviously the on-call teacher. He was branded with two walkie-talkies. 'Where's the one in question?' He asked one of the learning support assistants. One of them half pointed in my direction. 'You again?' He asked, coming over to me. 'What have you done now?'

'Nothing, sir, as per usual.'

'Refusal to do coursework hey? Well I've got an idea, it seems to be a bit distracting in here.' He said, looking around at two boys who were throwing rubbers at each other. 'I've got a free morning this morning after this hour so why don't you come and do some of your science coursework in the BTEC office. If I help you we'll get through it as four times as quick' He smiled at me. 'Come on,' he said, encouragingly. I didn't need to be told twice. I got up and gathered my belongings together, happy that I was contradicting Mrs. Edwards by leaving G4 with Mr. Cooper. I couldn't help but give Mrs. Lewis an incredibly smug smile on the way out. I sat with Mr. Cooper for the whole day in the end, he sat all morning with me helping me through my science books. The way he spoke to me, so nice and calming without a hint of aggression. Mr. Cooper reminded me that there was good people in the world.

I soon settled in with a new routine, going to G4 and completing my science and English coursework for year 10. With Mr. Cooper's encouraging words, I finished my science sooner than I thought and finished my English soon after. Within two weeks, I was allowed to start my Year 11 timetable. The only problem was, with all the teacher and room changes I got severely stressed whenever I looked at the timetable. The History problem was sorted out, there was an error on the timetable and I did indeed have Mr. Hall. However, the Citizenship and Work Related Learning classes were still a problem. I was comfortably in middle set in Year 10, so I hadn't a clue why I had been moved down in both classes and no one else seemed to no either. No one else seemed to know, yet they still refused to move me back up. I didn't like the bottom set I had been put in, because most of the students spent their time messing around and all my newly found friends were in the other set I had been moved down from. However this was not a reasonable enough excuse for the Stockport staff, as apparently 'I couldn't tell them how to run their school.' I really wasn't, I simply wanted to be put back in my rightful class. It was a stressful last two weeks of year 10. I would go in every time I had citizenship or work related learning and either go to G4 or wander the corridors. Both tactics usually got on-call running after me. I remember I used to play games with them. I would hide behind lockers or under the stairs. When on-call found me they usually just sent me up to G4 as they couldn't do much else with me. It was only on the last day of Year 10, after my mum rung up and complained also, that they moved me back up to my rightful set.

By the start of Year 11 it was obvious that I wasn't getting my 30 hours of support like I should. In fact, I got nowhere near it. I had 1:1 with Mrs. Lewis for 2 hours a week whilst the other students in our year did P.E. I then had coursework catch up for 3 hours a week. This apparently came out of my 30 hours of support, but the learning support assistants were mostly so hung up on Jack and Jessica; the two other, much more disabled students in the group that I kind of just got left by the sidelines to fend for myself. I think my mum voiced this as well, stating that I needed apparent help on safety and dangers. I probably was a bit more behind on safety knowledge than most of my peers, but compared to Jack and Jessica I think everyone is more advanced in front. Jack and Jessica also had what they called 'safety group' and it got me out of lessons twice a week. We had it with this random man, who I've actually forgotten the name of. He was a support assistant at the school but I never had a lot to do with him. He had a very dry and slow-speaking tone to his voice, which irritated me highly. Mrs. Lewis also came and sat with us on the first safety group of the term. It was a bit awkward as things had been fractured between me and Jack the past few weeks so much that Mrs. Lewis made Jessica sit between us. We didn't argue exactly, but Jack had touched my arm a bit too much for my liking so I stupidly ran off from him and he ended up chasing me around the school. I think he did it to say sorry for touching me, but it was a bit odd having someone chasing me around the school after they had touched me a bit too much. It felt weird being in such close proximity to him. I was so glad that Jessica was sat in the middle. The first session taught me that how much it seemed like a good idea, the level of learning was a lot lower than what I personally should have had. 5 minutes in Jack said it was acceptable to go and ask a hooded stranger for directions and Jessica didn't even have a clue what sex was, when we were talking about the dangers of rape. That was another 2 hours of my week on useless support.

As I felt like I was somewhat 'better' than Jack and Jessica, I started to get irritated with their presence. During our coursework catch up sessions that we had together, they needed 1:1 support basically all the time, which left me to fend for myself. The coursework catch up sessions dragged ridiculously, so when our support assistant, Mrs. Watson said she'd take us all out for the afternoon as an end of year 10 treat, I was more than happy to oblige. She had been talking about this 'treat' for ages, although I knew not to expect much. It was going to be no Chessington or Thorpe Park and I wasn't overly surprised when Mrs. Watson told the three of us we were going to the local farm. I hated animals with a passion, but I'd rather of gone out than sat in school on my own. That's another thing that people with autism seem to love- animals. I really hate them. They smell and make strange noises that often make me jump. I have a cat at home and that's about the only animal I'm ever going to like. I was very pleased with this trip in a sense, as I wanted to show Mrs. Watson and our other support assistant, Ms. Morgan that actually I was quite an able human being. I think especially Mrs. Watson knew it anyway, but I just wanted to show it. I happily strolled along in front of the others while walking to the farm, Ms. Morgan literally had to help Jessica walk along and Mrs. Watson was trying to keep her patience with Jack, who was stopping her at every opportunity to point out something 'interesting' too her. As we reached the farm, everyone seemed to be in high spirits. Whilst Jack and Jessica got stuck in touching the animals, I stood by the sidelines with Mrs. Watson. I was starting to feel a little nervous looking around. It wasn't like a zoo, which I had tried to compare it too as I hadn't really been to a farm before. Some of the animals were up walking around, including some massive birds which really freaked me out. I absolutely hate things like that, although I don't know why. I edged closer to Mrs. Watson, still checking over my shoulder for the giant birds. As we were about to move on to the next enclosure, I heard a loud whistling noise. A farmer had come out of nowhere and was carrying a massive bucket of food. Before I knew it all the birds came running towards him and as the farmer was standing next to us they all ran in our direction. 'I don't like it, I don't like it!' I said, biting my hand.

Mrs. Watson immediately took my arm and steered me away from the birds into the inside an aquarium bit. 'I'm sorry.' I said, looking at her. 'I'm such an idiot. I just hate those things.'

'No that's fine.' She said. 'We can just wait in here until the other two have finished looking around.' She was actually really nice and spoke to me about how capable she thought I was. She said I could easily get a job and live like everyone else. I only cut her off when a massive bird came in and I shouted at the top of my voice 'GO AWAY!' as if it could have actually understood me. The trip actually taught me a lot. The fact that everyone says Jack and Jessica were much worse than me disability wise, but I was the only one acting like I had a disability on that occasion. The mood lightened as we made our way back to school. As we had been so good, Mrs. Watson brought us a 'treat' from the shop on the way back. It was only a Ribena, but it was nice and refreshing on such a hot day. I amused myself whilst sipping my drink by watching Jack preform a Beyoncé song in front of us as Jessica danced along. Jack and Jessica didn't always act normally, but I knew for a fact they were the only students who were never going to judge me for who I was.

Year 10/Year 11- The Trouble with Stockport

Just because I had a quiet period with my obsessions, doesn't mean I wasn't getting into trouble with other things. As, there was always something going on.

I still seemed to get into trouble with a lot of things around the school. Whether it was arguing with the teachers or skipping lessons. Although I say 'teachers' must like at St James's, I got on quite well with my normal subject teachers, apart from the odd one. It was the special needs staff I didn't get on with overly well. Especially Mrs. Edwards, the head of inclusion, Mrs. Green, the SENCO and of course, Mrs. Lewis my key worker. Mrs. Edwards always thought she knew everything and I think she just thought I was this rude and non-compliant child. Mrs. Green was quite rude often and didn't have a clue about autism, even though the school called her a SENCO. Mrs. Lewis, who I saw quite a lot I think I argued with the most. She was quite aggressive to me quite a lot and had less patience than anyone I knew. There was no point going to her about any problem that I had in the school because 'you are in a mainstream school. You get treated like everyone else.' Which sounds fair, but that's like treating someone who's paralyzed like everyone else, would you expect them to walk, talk and juggle some apples? Not really. The correct term should have been, 'You get treated for who you are.' As a lot of the schools say, 'Every Child Matters.' Right? Obviously not. I also didn't seem to get on with most management staff, including the head of key stage 4, Ms. Wood and my head of house, Mr. Young.

Like at St James's, there was a lot of miscommunication that seemed to only backfire on me, and it really seemed like no one cared. I think it was for children in need for that November, and the normal non-compliant Mrs. Lewis had agreed that I could stay up in the special needs unit to do my work instead. I didn't like non-uniform day and I usually either bunked, or came in my uniform and refused to do any lessons. I was surprised that Mrs. Lewis came to this agreement, but I think my mum put her foot in it as it was the only way I would have agreed to go in. This was perfect situation; but it was Stockport, so I should have known it wasn't going to work. I couldn't have been in the special needs unit for half an hour, before Mrs. Green, the head of special needs pulled me out into the corridor. 'Why aren't you in lesson?'

She asked.

'Mrs. Lewis said I could work up here.' I replied.

'Well Mrs. Lewis isn't in today, so you need to go to your lesson' she said, shortly.

'You are joking?' I asked. 'The only reason I came in today was so I didn't have to go to lesson when I wasn't wearing uniform.'

'There's no one here to supervise you. Go to lesson or I will get on-call.'

I was not shocked by this statement, as there is never anyone. 'I'm guessing you spent the funding for the 30 hours of support I get a week on coffee and biscuits then, because I haven't had any support this week at all, and the one day I apparently need someone to supervise me, there's no one. This school is so amazing.' I said sarcastically. 'I ain't going anywhere, you just watch me. Autistic people don't like change. Call yourself a SENCO do you?'

She got on-call for me after that, as promised. I couldn't believe I was in this situation, I really couldn't. I didn't move from the spot I stood at until I saw the familiar face of my science teacher, Mr. Cooper bounding up the stairs with a walkie talkie, meaning that he was the on-call teacher. I got on with him really well, and he was a really nice person, although the class usually messed him about a bit. 'Come over here, you.' He said, beckoning me over to him, smiling. 'Have you been causing trouble? It's not like you.'

'I ain't done nothing, sir,' I said, before explaining the story.

He listened carefully before saying. 'Well, I've got a compromise. You've got geography now, right? How about you go and sit in the geography office, that way you don't have to go into the class.' I went home at lunch at this point, as I did part time days for the first year, so it seemed a good idea. 'Let's go and see if we can sort it out then.' He said, leading me out of G4 and across the corridor to the geography office. 'Just sit there while I go and have a word with Miss Scott.' Miss Scott was my geography teacher. I usually got on with her quite well, but she seemed to be in an irritable mood as well. She looked from me, to Mr. Cooper and back again. 'Well what's she doing in here?' 'It was just a compromise, she was in-

'There's mock exam's in two weeks.' She interrupted 'Flipping mock exams that Hannah needs to be in lesson for, it's not good her sitting here, she's not going to pass this way' She took one more look at the both of us before huffing and puffing and walking back into the classroom.

'Sorry.' I muttered to Mr. Cooper. I felt bad for him, he was about the only one who was trying to help, but sadly, at Stockport it seemed to be the subject teachers who were better at dealing with me than the special needs staff.

I also had quite a bit of trouble, with another boy who had Asperger Syndrome. Jack, was in my coursework catch up group that I had twice a week for two hours. Sometimes I got on with him fine. I spoke to him often about Mrs. Young, as she was his Spanish teacher and I don't think he quite understood that I liked her. He was a lot more autistic than me, but in many ways, the special needs department seemed to love him. He was polite, for one thing. He wasn't the kind of autistic kid who would go off on one if there was a room change, or would shout at a teacher if the teacher had shouted at him first. They spent a lot of time with Jack, and he seemed to get away with everything. We had periods of getting on and then not getting on. He quite liked me though. He expressed his love for me on a number of occasions. I had no interest in him, and I am sure he only said he liked me because we both had Asperger Syndrome. He even asked me to the school prom. I smiled slightly when he asked me, and said 'Thanks Jack but I'm not going, and too be honest I think you can find someone better to go with. I know we are both autistic and that, but there are much nicer, prettier girls out there. Don't bother with someone like me. I'm nothing.'

'I think you are pretty.' He said, thoughtfully. 'You are really nice as well.'

'That makes one person Jack, I reckon you should go and ask Jessica or something.' Secretly, I was quite flattered. No one had ever called me pretty before apart from my mum, who didn't really count. We always had CS with another girl, called Jessica. Her too, I struggled with. She seemed to get upset over basically nothing, and would start hysterically cry over not very much. I remember once in CS I was talking to our helper, Mrs. Watson about this fight that had happened. Jessica, who was sitting on the same table and listening in, had our other support worker, Ms. Morgan helping her. A little way into the conversation, Jessica said 'Hannah, can you be quiet I'm trying to do my work.'

I couldn't reply, however before Mrs. Watson said in my defense, 'Hannah's allowed to talk, she's talking to Me. Get on with your work.'

I carried on talking in the same way I did, before I heard Jessica sniffing loudly. I turned to see her rubbing her eyes. 'Is she crying?' I asked Mrs. Watson, unsurely.

'She's alright, aren't you Jessica?' She asked, but Jessica's cries were getting louder and louder and before anything she was hysterical. 'Is she really crying?' I asked 'It's because of me, I haven't done anything!' I said.

'It's not because of Hannah is it, Jessica?'

'Yes, it is.' She sniffed.

Before long, she was hysterically crying and gasping for breath.

I spent quite a lot of time with both of them really, as they were often up in G4. Jessica, like me seemed to annoy Mrs. Lewis and her crew. They were often aggressive towards her. She had cerebral palsy and emotional issues and often felt sorry for her. I sometimes stuck up for her as she often got treated unfairly and she could never seem to stick up for herself. She was quite disabled and in a way I was quite surprised she wasn't in a special school, but the way she got treated was incredibly shocking. I can remember one time, when I seriously felt like giving Mrs. Lewis a good slap. I must have been doing coursework in G4 while Mrs. Lewis was in deep conversation with her crew about taking Jessica on a school trip. It was a trip for all the good students in the year group who had good attendance and minimal detentions. Jessica wasn't like me in the slightest, she was a very happy and carefree student most of the time and spent the whole time laughing. She never got any detentions and seemed to be in school every day, so I have no clue why Mrs. Lewis had such a problem. 'Well I'm not taking Jessica. I ain't paid enough to take her to the toilet, I ain't gonna be wiping her am I? It ain't in my job description.' Before any of her crew could reply, I replied on their behalf. 'You mean to say, Jessica is a really good student yet you can't be bothered to take her and give the opportunity that everyone else has because you can't be bothered to take her to the toilet. Are you for real? It's not in your job description you say? Your right, it's in your job description to be nice and give support to students with special needs BUT I NEVER SEE YOU DO THAT.' Mrs. Lewis rolled her eyes. 'Hannah, Shut up and mind your own business.' She snapped.

The school also had their own discipline techniques. At one point they had this ridiculous idea to hold up a red card, like I was a 5 year old with some serious learning difficulties. 'What Is that?' I asked when Mrs. Lewis showed me.

'If you go too far this will be your warning.'

'What? Are you actually stupid? Or am I just the stupid one to be treated like this?'

'STOP!' she commanded like I was some sort of child about to put their hand in a fire. She was quick to use her new discipline technique as she held up the red card as well. There was so many things going through my mind that my response was quiet and almost dangerous. 'Get it away from me right now, before I fucking rip it up before your eyes.'

She blinked. 'What? You're going to get in more shit if you say that.'

'But you just swore too!' I said, incredulously.

The on-call system as well, was a favourbale method of the special needs department trying to keep my under control. I had 2 1:1 sessions with Mrs. Lewis every week and I think at least once a week on-call was called. Too be honest, I would never say I never did anything wrong. I was rude, but as she was so rude to me, it made me want to be rude back. Sometimes, however she didn't help herself. Sometimes I would spend half the hour just sitting there as she was often late and never apologized for her lateness. She would almost always come in in a bad mood and would get aggressive before the hour had even started. Normally the on-call teacher would speak to me before sending me back in to Mrs. Lewis. On a couple more occasions, I got sent to Mr. Hall the deputy head. He was my history and ICT teacher so spent a lot of time with him, as well as the countless times I was sent to his office. I liked him a lot and both me and my mum even now think he was the only descent member of staff at Stockport. He was an incredibly fair man and even if I was having an argument with a member of staff Mr. Hall would sometimes stick up for me if he believed it was unfair. Sometimes I enjoyed being sent to him, as I knew I would be treated nicer by him.

Year 10/Year 11- A Battle, Everyday

The main trouble, I found with Stockport was that they didn't want to work with me. It was always what THEY wanted to do, there was no such thing about 'meeting halfway.'

The main thing I battled about with Stockport, without a doubt was Change and Routine. The school seemed to struggle with the fact that I didn't like change and couldn't cope. But as they got aggressive with me, I got aggressive back and I, in the end was the only one who got into trouble. 'Flexible Fridays' were a pure example of the above. I hated Flexi Friday's with a passion. Once, every two weeks we would go off our normal timetable to do unstructured activities with unstructured teachers. No one particularly helped me, and I usually got the 'Get on with it.' From Mrs. Lewis. I think I tried threatened not to come in, but they just came back at me saying 'We will just fine your mum then.'

I think I got quite aggressive at this, and replied with 'Don't you dare go calling my mum saying nothing, because she understands that I can't cope with flexi Fridays. AND SO SHOULD YOU! YOU ARE MEANT TO BE TRAINED!'

I'm sure on call got called on that occasion, but that was nothing new.

I also remember, they more or less just expected me to cope with things, without a fuss. I remember several times when things changed and I kicked up a fuss, I just found myself in front of the deputy head, Mr. Hall. Sometimes he understood other times he tried to understand but too be honest I spent so much time standing in front of him, after I while I gave up explaining my ridiculous situation every time I saw him.. But if Mr. Hall wasn't around, there was always another senior member of staff I would find myself standing in front of. I remember once, it was coming up to the end of Year 11 and strangely enough our maths sets changed. They put the people who had more of a chance of getting a C in maths in a different class. I had no idea why I was on the list in the first place, as my maths was appalling. My maths teacher read out the lists one lesson. I was sitting with Mrs. Lewis at the time who sat at the back of my bottom set maths class. I didn't react to being on the list at first, as there were two Hannah's in the class. The class, as usual were rowdy and talking over him so I couldn't really hear him, but in the end Mrs. Lewis spoke on my behalf. 'Which Hannah?' she asked.

'Both,' He replied, not looking around.

'What?' I immediately came to attention. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

'You have too,' my maths teacher said, still not looking round.

'Drag me then! Coz I ain't going.'

'Just get up and go Hannah. Most of the class are going. It's no big deal.' Mrs. Lewis said, in her usual aggressive tone.

'Actually.' I said, turning round to her as I knew at this point, an argument was going to break out, 'Changing my maths teacher and maths room and maths book and maths seat and maths timetable IS A BIG DEAL FOR ME. I'm autistic, remember? Or did that slip your mind?'

'Go, or it's on call.' Mrs. Lewis said, unsympathetically, getting up. I knew she was getting up getting ready to call on-call as she knew me well enough by this point that I wasn't going to change my mind. Predictably, before I knew it I was in front of the assistant head, Mrs. Nesbitt, who was trying to persuade me too. The facts where, if Mrs. Lewis actually supported me moving classes and was nice about it, I might have gone. But she didn't. So I didn't. Mrs. Nesbitt tried to play the same card as Mrs. Lewis. 'Everyone else is going- Amelia Peck is doing it,' she said, as if that would make it better. Amelia was a new girl to the school who I had got quite friendly with as I sat with her in History. She was also part of my Coursework Studies group, and Mrs. Nesbitt had obviously noticed this over time. 'I ain't Amelia am I?' I replied.

'But come on, you can go In with Amelia.'

'I don't want too.'

'If Amelia Peck is doing it, I'm sure you can.'

'Well,' I said, starting to get irritable, 'Flipping Amelia Peck hasn't got autism, has she? Unless I am missing something vital out of the situation.'

There was a long silence.

'No,' Mrs. Nesbitt confirmed. 'She hasn't, but I just thought it would help you go into the class.' Credit to Mrs. Nesbitt though, the idea didn't work, but it seemed a better idea than Mrs. Lewis getting aggressive and my maths teacher saying I simply HAD TO go.

Another person who I battled quite a bit with, was my head of house, Mr. Young. Of course, there was the issue that he was married to Mrs. Young. I did however, feel more grown up than I had with Ms. Baker and was quite proud of myself that I had no plans to kill Mr. Young, like I did with Ms. Baker's husband. Even so, I felt it difficult to get on with him and too be honest, I don't think he was too fond of me either after a while. We got on well sometimes as I could remember, but I remember being in isolation a lot with him when I first started Stockport as I was a troubled child and spent most of my life being sanctioned. We then got on a bit better, until I told him I had feelings for his wife and it sort of went downhill from then really. I think I threatened to stamp on his foot, or I might even of threatened to whack him at one point, even though that wasn't due to Mrs. Young, I think I just thought he was a useless head of house. I think I lost all respect for him when once, when I was in his citizenship lesson and there was a room change. I think I spoke to him in confidence about it, but he pretty much told me to get on with it and gave me a detention when I refused to do the work. I remember having random arguments in the corridors when we went through a bad patch together, very much like Mr. Fotopoulos at St James's, I think I had a go at him whenever I saw him. He never had that much patience or time for me and I even got banished a couple of times from 'Green Corridor' The corridor where he taught and were his office was, because I think I had an argument whenever I saw him. As time got on and things got worse between me and Mrs. Young later on, I saw less of Mr. Young as the school were trying to keep us a part a bit. He was still my head of house, however and I often had issues so depended a lot on a senior member of staff such as himself, but I never went to him if I had an issue. In the end, if I had an issue I just kept it in, as I knew no one was going to listen.

I was always battling with someone. If it wasn't Mrs. Lewis, Mrs. Green or Mrs. Edwards, it was the senior leadership team and Mr. Young. There was always someone, always something. And the more I got rejected, the more I got no help or rubbish help, the more aggressive and non-compliant I became.

Year 11- No Self Control

By January things seemed to of settled down. I had a new best friend; Rosie. I was also warming to her group of friends. It was the first time I was a part of a big group of friends, as I had only had one or two friends before. Although I was settled at the time it was a daunting prospect for me that I only had 5 months of school left altogether. I would then have exams, which would greatly affect my future. I was worried about passing my seven subjects; English, Maths, Science, Geography, History, ICT and Citizenship. I was especially struggling with Geography at this point. I love geography, I could draw a map of the world from memory at aged 6, although however GCSE geography wasn't quite the same. It was more weathering and erosion that I didn't like in the slightest and I kept on failing my mock exams. But by the end of January I had made a decision. I was going to drop geography for good.

I was in a geography mock exam one afternoon at the end of January. I was up in G4 for a change, as there were only a few people doing the geography exam, none of whom apart from me needed the language huts. I can remember getting increasingly frustrated and in the end I ended up throwing my pen down on the floor and shouting at the top of my voice 'I AIN'T DOING IT!' Mrs. Lewis who was supervising me was actually helpful for once and asked me what was wrong. I didn't re-do the exam in the end and I thought that that would be the end of it. Simple. Done. Obviously not.

It didn't take long before I was in yet another meeting. I had Mr. Hall at one end of the table, telling me how much the school had done for me yet I didn't give anything back. I had my mum on the other side of me bribing me with sweets and coke to redo the exam. My Geography teacher Miss Scott had also come into the meeting, but sat silently towards the end.

'Just do the exam, please.' Miss Scott almost begged me.

'No.' I replied flatly.

'Just do it!' She snapped back.

'No!' I shouted back.

She bring her hands up to her face and wiped her eyes. When she bring her hands away from her face I could see she had tears in her eyes. I suddenly felt instantly bad for her, I had always liked Miss Scott and I felt bad that I had just gone on a hateful rant about geography. I think I was about to respond before Mr. Hall beat me too it. He put his head in his hands himself, saying 'I don't think you know how much damage you've done.' He said, gesturing over to a sniffling Miss Scott.

'Fine I'll do it! But I'm doing it for Miss Scott and no one else!' Ironically, Miss Scott was leaving on that day to go on maternity leave as she was pregnant, so I think I literally did just do the exam so I and Miss Scott didn't leave on bad terms. But I went in the next day with the same frame of mind. With Miss Scott gone, I set out on a mission.

I think I must have visited about every member of staff with high authority the next day trying to encourage them to let me drop geography. The answers were the same, blank, no's. And the more the day went on, the more aggravated I got.

. The last person to see on my agenda was Mrs. Green, the head of special needs. Now I'm not sure why I even went to her, I just think I was desperate and would go and see anyone. The bell went for last lesson but I asked Rosie to come with me. She did. Mrs. Green invited us into her office. She invited us both to sit down, but I don't sit down so just Rosie did. I started talking, explaining my side but she kept giving me the same answer. "I can't help you". I was desperate by this point and started to stress and stress. 'WHY CAN'T YOU HELP ME? I'VE BEEN ROUND THE SCHOOL TEN TIMES ASKING PEOPLE TO HELP ME. DO YOU WANT ME TO GO AND TOUCH MRS YOUNG? I WILL, I WILL!' I had no particular desire to touch Mrs. Young, I just used it as a threat.

She left me in the office for a while to calm down with Rosie. Rosie was trying to calm me, telling me to breathe slowly and all that. I tried but I didn't have too much patience with the new method of calming me. I grabbed a set of keys from the shelf. Rosie tried to grab them but I got them faster.

'Hannah give me them, please,' she said.

'I'll do a bribe with Mrs. Green when she gets back, she can have her keys back if she lets me drop geography.'

I started to look for other things to bribe Mrs. Green with. I saw, rather strangely a carton of milk. I liked it and tried to grab it but Rosie was faster. She thought that a carton of milk would cause a lot less trouble than a set of keys, so she said, 'if you give me the keys, I'll give you the milk.'

I liked that idea so I did an exchange. I never knew a carton of milk would make such trouble. Mrs. Green came back in. She didn't accept my bribe and carried on talking to me. The more she spoke, the worse it got. I found myself deteriorating. I was so frustrated, so angry and so despair. Something clicked inside of me and I found myself starting to gradually open the cartoon of milk. Yet again, I felt unpredictable and I was literally all set to throw it in her face. As soon as Mrs. Green saw me opening it however, without warning she jumped out of her seat ran over too me and clasped her hands hard to the carton of milk making the milk spill out of the top everywhere..... And by everywhere, I mean all over me. And one thing I hated, was milk. 'OH MY GOD' I jumped up with a hysterical scream. 'I HATE MILK! YOU GOT IT ALL OVER ME OH I HATE THE SMELL OF IT! I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU I WILL I HATE MILK!'

Rosie immediately got up and was trying to calm me down but I was hysterical and all set for revenge. I violently grabbed out for the milk again but Mrs. Green grabbed me with both her hands. She grabbed my bare wrists hard. Oh but it was a mistake. "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME? GET OFF ME, GET OFF ME!"

But she kept tight hold of my wrists even though I tried to wriggle out of her grasp. She was trying to gently push me out of the office, with Rosie trying to take me out from behind. The fact that she was giving me skin to skin contact made me feel awful, I couldn't cope. I used to hate people touching me, and luckily not many people did. I knew what was coming. I was losing all self-control- 'I'm going to hit her, I'm going to hit her.'

'No you're not no you're not.' Rosie said.

But it was too late. I got out of her grasp and pushed her, my whole body weight going into her. She stumbled a bit, almost losing her balance. I was still covered in milk and she went off to find a toilet where I could get all the milk off. I sat on the bench with Rosie who was still trying to calm me. She was encouraging me to still take Geography as I only had a couple of months left and that, but I kept on saying that I just couldn't. I had tears in my eyes, for what I think was the first time at Stockport. I tried to hide it but Rosie saw and told me not to cry. She was still trying to calm me when she was helping me get all the milk off me. I was continuing to complain about Mrs. Green and threatening Mrs. Young. The fact was I pushed her because she touched me. I thought physically touching students in English schools is illegal.... But of course I didn't dare go anywhere with that because I would of got nowhere. I then remembered how I used to hate Mrs. Loizou touching me when I was at St James's. I wouldn't have dared to push her though. I wouldn't have had a clue how she would have reacted. I ask people not to do three things. Touch, Shout and change my routine. But someone always manages to do one of them.

I did drop Geography in the end, although I was excluded for a few days for physically hurting a member of staff. It was shocking for me really, as although I had been through a lot, I never lashed out (although I did elbow Mr. Fotopoulos back in Year 9). I did put it down to people touching me. I had a meeting the following Tuesday with the head of Key Stage 4, Ms. Wood and Mr. Hall, the deputy head. I think I remember Mr. Hall spoke to me quite rationally, however, Ms. Wood didn't. She was, again, one of those teachers who didn't know me very well but knew my situation. 'What do you want to be when you get older Hannah?' She asked.

'I don't know.' I said 'A teacher, I think.'

'For what age?' She asked.

'Like, little kids.' I said.

She smiled slightly. 'Maybe that's not such a good idea.'

'Why?' I and my mum both asked together.

'What are you going to do if you get angry? What will you do Hannah?'

'Are you implying that I would physically hurt a child?' I asked. I don't think I was angry, I was more shocked and surprised she had said it.

'Maybe.' She said.

That's the first thing the school had be labelled down as then. A child hitter. But there were many more labels to come

Year 11- The Week Beginning 8th March

It was the week beginning the 8th of March when things started to go downhill in a big way. It may have been the impending exams in June and the further stress of higher education that made me feel more and more obsessed with Mrs. Young. I had been obsessed with her constantly during that year, but I seemed to of kept it under control.

There was a big difference, however between Ms. Baker and Mrs. Young. I still believe I had stronger feelings for Ms. Baker. Ms. Baker was different, something else. I put it down to the fact that I was losing self-control as the years went on and by the time the end of year 11 was approaching I felt like I had no self-control

Monday the 8th of March was when I started. I felt different, although I didn't know why. I don't know what triggered it, nor if I had any stress beforehand. I had maths as a first lesson. My maths class was situated opposite the language huts where Mrs. Young taught. I usually spend maths, a lesson which I didn't like in the slightest staring out the window trying to look at Mrs. Young. Due to the fact that I was in bottom set maths we always had a support assistant with us. Normally it was Mrs. Lewis, although she cheekily said that her sitting at the back of my bottom set maths class was taken out of _my_ 30 hours of support I got a week. I could never express my feelings very well, I suppose that's part of my Asperger Syndrome. This lesson was no exception, as I was struggling with my obsessive behavior but it came out in the wrong way, which was Mrs. Lewis's cue to go mental. Which obviously I partly understand, that the school had to take precautions but maybe I just needed someone to talk too. Mrs. Lewis didn't even discuss the matter with me, but I knew it wasn't over. And surely enough, not even 10 minutes later I was standing in front of the deputy head, Mr. Hall. The school knew what they were doing by this point. They knew I liked and listened to Mr. Hall which I think was the main reason why I always got sent to him. When I had sat down in his office, he said 'I cannot have you going round expressing your sexual feelings for my members of staff.' I always tried to keep quiet when I was in trouble with Mr. Hall, as I thought he was a fair man and I tried to pay him respect. However on this occasion what he said was so wrong I had to say something. 'It ain't sexual!' I said back to him. This would normally be when a member of staff told me off for answering back. However, Mr. Hall took a different approach. 'I'm sorry I miss interpreted your feelings.' He said. I was extremely taken aback by this. I knew Mr. Hall was a decent human being, however no one had ever admitted they were wrong in their way of dealing with me before. No one ever held there hand up and said they were wrong and apologized for it, not till this present day. He then gave me two choices: To either go home or have Mrs. Lewis and her team 'stalk' me for the rest of the day. Yes, he offered me the exact same thing that happened at St. James's. People following me around like I was a high profile axe-murderer. 'So, I either go home or have Mrs. Lewis stalk me for the rest of the day?' I said back to Mr. Hall. However he just stared at me blankly before giving me another lecture about using the word 'stalk.' 'Fine sir,' I said when he had finished 'I'll have Mrs. Lewis follow me without verbal permission for the rest of the day.'

I then stood up, ready to leave the office, when Mr. Hall shocked me even more. 'Hannah, I'm sorry again that I misinterpreted your feelings.'

'Oh it's alright, sir.' I said, I almost forgot such thing happened. 'Everyone does it so I'm kind of used to it.'

'That doesn't make it right.' He replied.

By this point I was completely fed up of Mrs. Lewis being her usual non-helpful self and it didn't help that I had a 1:1 session after my lecture from Mr. Hall. I don't think I was on speaking terms with her and spent most of my lesson with my back to her. 'After this.' She said, towards the end of the lesson 'I will take you to English, then you will come and spend your lunch up here in G4.'

'Erm... How about no!' I replied. 'There is no way I am spending my lunch up here with a load of special needs kids with no friends, ok!'

'Do you want to go back to Mr. Hall?' She threatened.

I shut up there and then. I don't think I could have coped with another half hour lecture from Mr. Hall. I was so pleased to get into English- although Mrs. Lewis had followed me there. I took my usual spot next to Rosie and told her everything that had happened. 'Nah you're coming outside with me.' Rosie said, defiantly. But Mrs. Lewis, who was standing over the both of us couldn't help but butt in to our conversation. 'She won't be going anywhere, G4 is the only place she can go.'

Rosie ignored her completely and smiled at me. 'I'll come up to G4 with you then. I can bring some of the others up too.'

As soon as the end of the lesson ended I got up from my seat. 'Wait there!' Mrs. Lewis snapped. 'I'm going now but Mrs. Edwards is coming to escort you so wait in the classroom for her.'

Huffing and puffing me and Rosie waited for what seemed like ages, until Mrs. Edwards finally showed her face. 'Sorry girls,' She said when she saw us standing there. 'I need to have a word with your English teacher first though.' I was growing more and more annoyed. 'This is our short lunch as well.' I said to Rosie, as on a Monday we only had a half hour lunch. Something then suddenly clicked inside of me and before I knew it I had run out of the classroom and down the stairs, Rosie hurriedly following after me. 'Wait!' She said, pulling my bag towards her. 'I don't want you getting in trouble.' Mrs. Edwards caught up with us shortly after but before she could have a go at us for running off, Mrs. Young came round the corner out of nowhere at a fast pace. Before I could even think about what to do Rosie had pushed me hard against the wall and held me there. 'You got her, yeah?' Mrs. Edwards asked her. I felt instantly humiliated, people holding me up against walls and encouraging each other to do so. I wasn't that dangerous, surely. Although I knew Rosie was only trying to help so thanked her all the same.

By the end of the day I had come to a conclusion about what I actually wanted to do to Mrs. Young. I wanted to touch her arm. For four seconds.

I knew after this, that I was going to be a battle every day. And it was.

I decided to come in and start fresh the day after- Tuesday. Tuesday's were option days, so we had our three options for one or two hour blocks. As I only had one GCSE option left; History, for the rest of the day I was up in G4, catching up on coursework and generally being bored. We had two learning support assistants helping us; Mrs. Watson and Ms. Morgan. Even though there was only 3 other students in our coursework catch up group, they were a lot needier than I was. Jack, who I mentioned before had Asperger Syndrome could never seem to stay on track so he normally had Mrs. Watson with him to try and keep him focused. Jessica, who I've also mentioned before needed constant help and supervision. Amelia was the other girl in our coursework catch up group. She was easily the most normal one of all of us and was only in the group as she was a new arrival to the school. I quite enjoyed her company and sat with her in History. I can remember Mr. Hall always used to pick on her to answer questions. She never really new the answers so I would whisper them in her ear. Although on this particular day I didn't feel like talking to anyone. For once, however, Ms. Morgan was helping me. With only 2 months left of school I was trying to complete all my BTEC science coursework, which I was behind on due to my late arrival at the school in year 10. However I wasn't in the mood for science and couldn't help but spill my feelings to Ms. Morgan about Mrs. Young. But I stopped abruptly before I had finished what I was saying. 'You're not going to tell anyone, are you?' I asked.

'You know I have too,' she said, unsympathetically. Ms. Morgan got up almost immediately and went towards the special needs office. 'Well that didn't take long.' I told Mrs. Watson.

Mrs. Watson sighed however. 'I don't know why she's done that. It's ridiculous, all you need is someone to talk to and people are telling on you at every given opportunity. If you ever need someone to talk too, talk to me, I won't tell Mr. Hall every little thing you say.' Despite Mrs. Watson's assuring words, I yet again found myself in front of Mr. Hall. However, I was feeling completely different from yesterday, I was as twice as irritated and annoyed and was all set and ready to go home. But Mr. Hall had other ideas. 'I need you to try and last it out to the end of the day.' He said. 'I need you in History this afternoon, these last 2 months are vital. However, if you so wish, you can choose the person that escorts you around today.'

'Mrs. Watson.' I said, almost quicker than he finished the sentence. Mrs. Watson was just about the only one who treated me like a decent human being. Mrs. Lewis spoke to me like dirt most of the time and Ms. Morgan had a knack of speaking to me like a small child with learning difficulties. Mrs. Watson escorted me to History after the coursework catch up session. She didn't even escort me, she just walked with me and talked to me about general things. When we got to History, she left me under the safe eye of Mr. Hall and went again. I loved History in general and loved the way that Mr. Hall taught. My happiness was only to be shattered, however when Ms. Morgan came to collect me early from History. 'There was no need to come so early,' I said, embarrassed as I had been taken out by a support assistant in front of the whole class. 'I was told too.' She said simply.

'Yeah?' I said back, growing more and more aggressive. 'Well if someone told you to jump off a cliff, would you? Exactly!' I walked off from her at a fast pace, but she could still clearly see me as the corridors were empty. 'STOP FOLLOWING ME, I'M NOT A RETARD!' I turned round and bellowed down the corridor at her.

'Don't use that word.' She said.

'I DON'T GIVE A SHIT. LEAVE ME ALONE.' I charged off, angrier than I had been in a long while. However I knew there was no escaping her so I went up to G4. Mrs. Lewis was waiting for me at the entrance. 'Stay there.' She said, telling me to wait by the door. She herself stood in the doorway to the special needs office, watching me. Shortly after, Mrs. Watson walked past me. 'Are you alright?' she asked.

'No.' I said. 'Where's Rosie, she's meant to be meeting me up here?'

'Oh! I saw her by your history class, I think she said she was meeting you up there.' Mrs. Watson said. She then walked past Mrs. Lewis into the office. As she did so, Mrs. Lewis turned her back on me to speak to her and with a rush of adrenalin pumping through me and the feeling of rebellion inside of me, I turned round and ran. Well, I didn't run, but I walked fast. My heart was beating and my legs were wobbly- with a mixture of nerves and excitement. I walked quickly round to my History class, although Rosie wasn't there. I was about to turn and go to look somewhere else when I heard someone call at the top of their voice 'HANNAH, COME BACK HERE NOW!' I turned to see Mrs. Lewis approaching me angrily. 'What?' I asked, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous situation.

'Don't give me what, you know you're meant to be in G4. That way, now.' She said, pointing.

'I know what way G4 is.' I said, quietly before walking in the direction she was pointing. I walked at a fast pace. Being tall, slim and not liking body contact meant that I had developed a knack for the busy corridors, I would simply swerve through crowds of people at a fast pace. Mrs. Lewis however, who was small and rather fat found it difficult to keep up with me.

I was slowly becoming less confident about the day as it seemed to drag on and by Wednesday morning I was feeling incredibly fed up. I knew it was most likely going to be the same routine as the two days before. But, in fact most of the day went really well. It was only at lunchtime things started to go downhill. I remember I wasn't being stalked that day as I was having lunch with Rosie and our other friends in the dinner hall. I don't even know what made me do it. I caught a glimpse, out of the corner of my eye of Mrs. Young's classroom. She could be in there, right now. And at that thought I stood up immediately. 'Where are you going?' Asked Rosie.

'Toilet.' I replied before walking off at a fast pace. I walked towards Mrs. Young's classroom, having no idea about what I would do if I saw her. I walked faster and faster towards her classroom until I stopped at her window and peered through. She wasn't in there and her door was locked. I turned back round again, irritably before I saw her walking towards me. I walked towards her, closer and closer she got. I just had to touch her arm, I just had too. She approached me and walked past me. I turned round and followed her, my arm was slowly outstretching, and my self-control was breaking. I was shaking as I walked behind her, trying so hard to fight the feeling inside of me. It felt like everything was weak, my legs were weak, my arms were weak, and I almost couldn't walk properly. The bell suddenly rang signaling the end of lunch. It almost jogged me back to my senses as it made me jump. I then realized what I was actually doing, that I was so close to touching her. I quickly turned round and ran, bumping into Rosie as I entered the school building. I immediately told her what had happened and she took me up to G4 to speak to someone. I sat in the special needs office, with my head in my hands, shaking while Rosie told Mrs. Lewis what happened. Mrs. Lewis simply sighed and being her usual un-helpful self, told me I was lucky that I didn't get removed from the school altogether.

As I was in such a state, I was surprised that Mrs. Lewis let me go to lesson on my own. Rosie had to go home for an appointment so I was pretty much on my own. I went to my Work Related Learning lesson and as we had finished the course I simply sat there drawing in my book as everyone else around me messed about. I had hardly done anything constructive, however when Mrs. Lewis interrupted my class to tell me to come and sit with her in G4 for the rest of the lesson. Considering the mood I was in, and the mood she was probably in we got on quite well. Although when the bell went for home time I knew there was going to be a consequence. I walked with Mrs. Lewis to the main reception whilst she went off to find out what was going on. She came back a couple of minutes later, accompanied by Mrs. Nesbitt, the assistant head teacher. She called me and Mrs. Lewis into a meeting room and told me to sit down opposite her. I vowed to myself, as I walked into the office not to be rude and aggressive and just to try and get the meeting over with as quickly as possible, however, what Mrs. Nesbitt came out with was so wrong, I couldn't help but argue back. 'I have two problems here Hannah.' She said. 'One, You have lied about physically assaulting a member of staff and two, you are getting other students involved.' It actually took me a few minutes to process what had been said to me.

'What? I haven't lied because I never even said I physically assaulted anyone in the first place, that was not what I said to anyone so I don't know why it's come to this. And also if you are talking about Rosie then she kind of got herself involved, I didn't ask her too, so it's really not my problem.'

'I spoke to Mrs. Young earlier Hannah.' Mrs. Nesbitt explained. 'She said she didn't see you.'

'You calling me a liar?' I said, my anger levels rising. 'Do you think I would be that sad to make this all up and besides she doesn't even know who I am or what I look like?'

'Your right, Hannah.' Mrs. Nesbitt said.

But this wasn't making sense... 'But surely if she didn't know what I looked like, she wouldn't know whether she had seen me or not?'

'I don't know Hannah, but either way I have to go by what I have heard and it's not good to have you in school at the moment.' She said, predictably.

'I was actually only aiming to touch her arm.' I said

'Yes, but you aiming to touch her arm could lead you to touch her other body parts and that could get out of hand.'

What on earth was she implying now? That I was some kind of sexual harasser that went around school trying to touch inappropriate body parts of women?

I was so angry and upset at the comment that I didn't even reply to her.

They also had a meeting with my mum afterwards. My mum got told a slightly different tale, going into much more detail. 'What did you say you done to Mrs. Young?' She asked, in the car on the way home.

When I told her, she nodded. 'You see,' She explained 'in the meeting, the first thing they said was that someone had reported to Mrs. Nesbitt that you had touched Mrs. Young's breasts.'

I sat bolt upright in my seat. 'What?' I exclaimed, 'Who would say that? That's awful, I didn't even touch her arm let alone anywhere else. I'm fed up of these people implying that I'm some sort of sexual assaulter.'

As Mrs. Lewis reported the incident, I figured that it was most likely her that told Mrs. Nesbitt about me apparently touching Mrs. Young. I quizzed her about it in our first 1:1 session after my exclusion. She just huffed and puffed and said 'You are talking about things that have already been and gone Hannah.'

Year 11- Goodbye, Stockport.

The week after, when I got back from my exclusion was fine for a while. Well, there was a lot of stress and without Rosie I don't know where I would have been. The beginning of the week after was fine as well, as I remember. It was only the following Wednesday when things started to go wrong again. I felt fine on Wednesday morning at it was only when I wrote down the date in of my school books I started to think. It was the 23rd of March, so it was sort of my anniversary for liking Mrs. Young. Oh I was so desperate to touch her arm. Just too touch her arm. Then, I wouldn't have to touch her again. I was alright till lunch, where I sat outside with Rosie, with the school seeing my behaviour had been approving, they were less strict with me where I spent my lunch times. But on this particular lunch time, I suddenly had an urge. I ran off when the bell went ignoring Rosie's calls to come back. I walked towards Mrs. Young's class. I went towards the door out towards the language classrooms when I felt a pull on my bag. Rosie was pulling me slowly backwards. I literally had to cling onto the wall so Rosie didn't pull me back too far. In the end, she managed to pull me back and take me up to Mrs. Lewis. Although I was in no mood to sort things about with anyone. I might have been in the mood to have a nice conversation with a polite member of staff but not many staff- especially the special needs staff were polite to me. Mrs. Lewis took me and Rosie in a little room next to G4. I was shaking as I spoke to Mrs. Lewis, but she was her usual snappy self. 'Go home then.' She said, simply. I must have then started to shout, as I stood up and she replied with, 'I'm going as I'm not paid to listen to this abuse.' She was right. She was paid to sit with me and talk with me and to pretend that she cared but she didn't even do that. It's obvious it's not easy to work with people with autism, but I thought someone who worked in the special needs department would be a bit nicer.

'Rosie you need to go back to lesson. Hannah, I'm calling mum.' She said, standing up.

'She can stay here if she wants!' I persisted, not wanting to be on my own with Mrs. Lewis.

'RIGHT, HANNAH!' She shouted... loudly.

'Right.' I said, getting up out of my seat to face her. 'HOW DARE YOU SHOUT AT ME, COME ON, SHOUT AT ME AGAIN, YOU WANT TO START AN ARGUMENT? BECAUSE I BET YOU ANYTHING I CAN SHOUT LOUDER THAN YOU CAN!' I practically bellowed at her, grabbing a piece of paper aggressively in anger.

Mrs. Lewis said no more. She simply walked out the room pushing Rosie out with her, so I was on my own. I kicked a wall in anger and madly started to trash the place. I took all the books down from the book shelf and threw them on the floor and grabbed all the coats on the coat hangers, emptied their pockets and threw them on the floor too.

I was even more livid when someone called my mum that evening and told her that I had attempted to hit Mrs. Lewis. How on earth they managed to make that up, I have no idea. I simply shouted at her and grabbed a bit of paper, she's spoken to me badly loads of times, I don't go around making up that she's hit me, and do I? First it was Mr. Fotopoulos in year 9 making up that I trod on his foot, then it was Mrs. Nesbitt and Mrs. Lewis making up that I touched Mrs. Young's breasts and now Mrs. Lewis was making up that I nearly hit her. What were these teacher's making me out to be like?

First I was a liar, who never even reached out to touch Mrs. Young. I was then a sexual abuser, who touched her breasts, and then, I was a physical assaulter who attempted to hit Mrs. Lewis. Those were the things I got accused off, all in the space of a week. None of them actually true. I always get in trouble for "jumping to conclusions" and seeing things differently, but I'm obviously not the conclusion jumper around here. It makes me despair when people made up lies about me. Especially people who are supposed to be mature adults. A big lesson in life.

I was getting so fed up of teachers in general. At Stockport if it wasn't. Ms. Wood making judgments about me and saying I would hit children it was Mrs. Lewis making up that I hit her and constantly getting aggressive with me. At St James's if it wasn't Mr. Fotopoulos fighting with me over scraps of paper and making up that I stood on his foot, it was Mrs. Loizou, pulling me around by my blazer and throwing stuffed toys at me. Where these really teachers of the modern British education system?

I went in on that Monday thinking one thing. 'I will be fine, as long as nothing starts me off.' And that was exactly what happened. Over the past month, the school finally discovered that they couldn't deal with me on my own and rung up a specialist person in autism. They, however, suggested that that Stockport reduce my timetable. Now that sort of sounds a good idea, for someone without autism. However, to reduce, and by reduce I mean completely change around a timetable of someone with autism, I wouldn't suggest would be the best way to go about it... I went into a 1:1 session with Mrs. Lewis where she explained this new change for my timetable. All my 1:1 sessions, Coursework catch up lessons and two of my History lessons were wiped clean off my timetable. I had lost count of how many times I had told Mrs. Lewis and others that I was most likely going to do something if I was stressed. But I had also lost count of how many times no one listened to me. The school knew I hated change. Why on earth would they do that?

I went to Work Related Work like normal, the lesson after but went on several walks with Rosie. I had the urge so much- but I had no one to talk to about it. No staff that could help me. That's maybe why I didn't touch Ms. Baker in the end. Because I had Mrs. Benedict at St James's. At Stockport I had no one. I told Rosie I was going to end it that day. She told me I wasn't. I ignored her and when the bell went, I headed straight to Mrs. Young's classroom. She stopped me before I left the class. 'I can't stop you. But make the right decision.' She said.

'I'm sorry.' I replied and ran out of the class, down the stairs and towards Mrs. Young's classroom. When I got to her classroom I peered through her windows. It would seem that no one was there. Huffing and puffing, I came away from the classroom window, just to see Mrs. Young come out of the classroom door. It made me jump more than anything as I didn't expect her to be there. Unable to control myself any longer, I walked towards her. With a rush of emotions I quickly had to make a decision. As I got closer, she saw me and smiled. I reached out my hand and half grabbed, and half held her arm before running stupidly away from her.

I went straight up to Mrs. Lewis to tell her. Not because I wanted her to listen or talk to me about her. I had given up on that a long while ago. I just told her to annoy her really, I think. Her reaction wasn't surprising. She simply said, 'Go to maths and wait to be sent home.' I went into maths only to be sent home a few minutes after I got in there.

I had to promise to behave. But my time ended at Stockport, the following Thursday.

I was stressed out as it was on Thursday morning. Rosie had problems at home the day before and I was debating whether she was going to be in or not. I felt more alone than ever- at the prospect of spending my time in the corners of corridors alone. And too top it off when I got into my form room, my form tutor, Mr. Norton, read out the detention list. And I was on it. As I lived far away from Stockport we agreed that I didn't do after school detentions. But my science teacher put me on a coursework detention as my coursework wasn't up to date. This stressed me out because I didn't do detentions at Stockport. As I agreed that I didn't do detentions with Mrs. Lewis, I went to speak to her. Generally worried and upset about it. But as predicted she pretty much told me to get on with it. Annoyed and frustrated that yet again no one was helping me, I shouted at the top of my voice 'WELL DON'T BE SURPRISED IF I DO SOMETHING THEN!'

Luckily Rosie was in and I sat next to her in Science, but I wasn't in a very good state of mind.

'I may get her later,' I muttered to myself.

'It's year 10 exams,' said Rosie 'So she wouldn't be in her class, anyway'. The bell rang for ICT, and I sped off on my own, checking the room-change list on the way. She was on there, and her room had been changed to a room in the corridor opposite my ICT class.I made a plan. A good plan. I would tell Rosie I have a detention with my form tutor, whose class is below the class of Mrs. Young. I would then go to her class, wait at the bottom of the stairs, for her..... I sat there, for the whole of ICT worrying myself a lot about it. When the bell went for break, I started to shake. On my way to the room I felt so ill, I could hardly walk. I had never felt like that before, I felt as if I was going to give way. My legs almost went, I was so stressed, so worried, so upset, I had the urge, I felt more than awful. I went up one flight of stairs and stood at the bottom of the next, waiting, and waiting. I saw at least three classes of students come down the stairs, but she was not among them. I waited more. For at least 10 minutes. With only 5 minutes left of break, I decided she wasn't coming, and went to the corridor where Rosie said she would meet me, but she wasn't there. Starting to get more stressed then I already was, I walked fast out of the corridor and around a corner, and really out of nowhere, and Mrs. Young appeared. Surprised and shocked, I had no time to think about what I was going to do to her so I bumped into her........hard. It was a stupid thing to do, but to be fair, it hurt me as well. I stopped for a second when she carried on walking, rubbed my arm, turned and followed her at a fast pace. I watched her go into the canteen and purchase something. I was at the doors, waiting for her. She looked at me on the way out and took the furthest root around me, and walked fast off towards reception, I followed her for a while, then stopped a little way from the reception doors. I then looked at my watch. I had exactly 2 minutes and 13 seconds till the bell went. I waited for her to come out, as she had to when the bell went. But she came out before that, walking towards G4, giving me a few facial expressions on her way. I was for sure that she was going to tell Mrs. Edwards or Mrs. Lewis of me, as I saw her walking up to G4. I walked after her, keen to see where she was going, but I bumped into Rosie on the way where she took both my arms and pushed me backwards when she saw me following Mrs. Young

'No, back this way'

'Oh, it's too late anyway, it's too late.' I lied and told Rosie that I accidently bumped into Mrs. Young. The bell then went, and we made our way to citizenship. I knew I was going to get pulled out half way through, but as we were doing our coursework, legally, apparently, I had to sit in there with the rest of my class. Although Mrs. Edwards came in half way through and had a word with Miss Clark, my teacher. Miss Clark looked shocked and surprised at what Mrs. Edwards whispered her. Anger rose inside of me, Miss Clark was one of my favourite teachers, and I didn't want her knowing anything about me that would make her dislike me. She then went and told Mr. Hall, who, as deputy head, was observing the lesson at the back of the room. I followed Mrs. Edwards with my eyes as she walked over towards him. She whispered something. He nodded a couple of times, and slowly placed two fingers at the top of his nose and closed his eyes tight. What a strange facial expression, I thought. I thought he may have been annoyed or something. I wanted to get this whole thing over and done with. So I finished my coursework quickly, in hope Miss Clark would say I had to go to G4 to see Mrs. Edwards, but instead she just gave me some more work to do. The bell went for fourth lesson, and as I predicated, Mrs. Edwards stood at the door waiting for me. 'Hannah, come with me,' she said. She led me to a very familiar place. Reception. 'Wait here, and your mum will come and pick you up. You will now stay at home until your exams.'

'Cool,' I said, calmly.

She then sat down beside me. 'Why did you do it?'

'Do what?' I asked

Bump into Miss.'

I thought for a couple of seconds. 'It's a common accident.'

'Yes, Hannah, but after a very stressful start to the week.'

I didn't feel emotional about leaving Stockport. In the end I only spend just over a year there. Most of my secondary school life was really at St James's, and I think that's where I always felt a part of....

Year 11- Stressful Exams

I thought, that it would be over after that. But when I came back in for my exams, it all started again.

For over a month I was sitting at home. While everyone else was at school revising and attending after school revision classes. I was stuck at home trying to revise off the internet at the top of my head. I knew then, that I was going to fail. I had so much stress from Year 8 to Year 11, missed so much time off school and wasn't the most intelligent child as it was. Being at home also made me feel more obsessed. Mrs. Young was always on my mind and I found it incredibly difficult to revise anything.

I knew that when I went back into school for exams, that it would be hard. I knew the school would be stricter than ever. And so they should have been, but, they did it in the wrong way. Leading up to the exams, no one contacted me and my mum about any security plans, so on the first day, I went to the exam hall as usual and had a joyful reunion with Rosie. When the bell went however, I went up to one of the ICT rooms as it was an English exam and as my writing was messy, I had to do it on a computer. There were an only a couple of year 11's altogether. I was stressed because of the exam and I was literally shaking. It was an English exam, an exam I could get a grade in if I tried hard. But Mrs. Lewis was determined to stress me out beforehand.

'Hannah!' She started on me as soon as she saw me standing outside the room. 'Who brought you up?' She asked.

I looked around. 'I more or less brought myself up.' I replied.

'You should have waited for someone,' she said irritably.

'CAN YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?' I shouted at her. And surprisingly, she did.

I didn't even like the room I was in, it was a horrible room that smelt funny. I felt so awful. As I was sitting there, I felt a tap on my shoulder. .A boy who was the only other one in the class doing the higher tier paper asked me a question I could barely answer him, however when Mrs. Lewis shouted 'SILENCE HANNAH!' Which made everyone look at me.

'What? It wasn't just me who was talking. I don't even like you.' I replied.

English was one of my strong points I had got B's and A's for my coursework, which was 25% of my final mark. I couldn't process anything in that exam. I tried so hard, but I couldn't make sense of anything. I ended up drawing all over the front of the exam, ripping it up and having my English teacher come and reason with me to take it again. It was so much pressure, after all those years of stressing, it had all come down to this...

Two days later, I was back in school for two exams. One was in the morning and the other in the afternoon. I thought this was great at first; it could mean I could spend lunch with my friends for the first time in months even if I did had to spend it under the watchful eye of Mrs. Lewis. When I voiced this to Mrs. Lewis, however she had other ideas. 'You're not allowed on the school premises at lunch, your mum will have to pick you up for 45 minutes and drop you off again.' Considering I lived 20 minutes away from the school and my mum herself had a job to try and hold down, it was absolutely ridiculous. Despite this, however I decided to go in on Wednesday with a positive mind set. Unlike two days before Mrs. Lewis was waiting in reception too take me to the exam. I followed Mrs. Lewis politely towards the language classrooms, where my exams were to take place. On the way, I saw the familiar faces of Rosie and our group of friends. They automatically ran up to me with excitement, as after all I hadn't seen them in over 2 months. I couldn't even get a word in edgeways, before Mrs. Lewis said 'Come on Hannah, hurry up we haven't got time for this.' Even though there was still 15 minutes to my exam and all I wanted to do was say hi to my friends. I sat in the exam room while Mrs. Lewis had a chat with another support assistant. I watched Rosie and our other friends talking and laughing. I felt so isolated.

The exam was alright in the end. Mrs. Lewis went into the other exam room so I wasn't near her, which I was happy about. But at the end, the person who was supervising the exam who I didn't know, started to let people go. I was gathering she was going to miss me out, but instead she pointed at me and said I could go. I couldn't believe it. I didn't check twice before getting up and grabbing my bag and almost running out of the room. I felt free as I stepped out into the open air- but I was so excited and nervous and with my adrenaline pumping, I almost felt week. I was almost at the corner which would put me out of sight to the MFL blocks before I heard a loud voice shouting 'HANNAH, COME BACK HERE NOW!' I went back smiling because I knew I had irritated Mrs. Lewis.

By the following Tuesday I thought to myself I must really try and behave and I did try too. On that Tuesday I got followed to the MFL blocks like usual and got taken away from my friends like usual, however on this day I got stalked by someone other than Mrs. Lewis. I didn't know where Mrs. Lewis. I was hoping that she wasn't in. Once this other woman had got to the MFL blocks with me, I thought this might have been my chance. 'It's alright,' I told her, 'you can go now, and I usually wait out here.' It almost looked as if she looked convinced when Mrs. Lewis opened the door. Keeping to my good behaviour thoughts, I went into the room politely saying morning to her. I liked the MFL classrooms, mainly because the class I was in was Mrs. Young's class. 'You are here,' said Mrs. Lewis, pointing to the front of the class. 'Where? I'm sorry I can't hear you' I said, messing her about. I covered my eyes with my hands and immaturely carried on. 'Sorry, did you say here?' She said pointing to the back of the class.

'Hannah, front. Now' she snapped.

I only stopped messing around when I saw where she was pointing too- Mrs. Young's desk. 'Oh cool, I'll go there.' I said. 'Mrs. Young's desk' I said, touching it. 'What's in here?' I asked myself out loud, opening one of the draws.'

'Hannah, shut the draw.' Mrs. Lewis said

'I didn't open it. It's ok, it's just bored markers.' I replied.

'This is exam conditions, you need to be silent.'

'Ok, one.' I said trying not to get too annoyed. 'One, I just answered you query. And two, It's not exam conditions because it's 15 minutes to the exam and everyone who is supposed to be in it is out the running around and screaming, ok?'

She didn't answer.

Still going through Mrs. Young's drawer, I found what I thought was a very cool object, although I didn't know what it was. It turned out to be a stapler remover. I liked it. 'I'll have this one.' I said, putting it my pocket.

'Have what?' Mrs. Lewis immediately asked.

'Oh Nothing,' I replied.

'That's fine Hannah, you will just get searched on the way out.'

'Try me.' I replied through gritted teeth.

That exam was a literature exam and I struggled slightly. Partly because my computer crashed on my twice for a fifteen minute period and I lost lots of time.

Mrs. Edwards hanged around for me at the end of the exam, all ready to "search" me. I had forgotten all about it, until Mrs. Edwards asked for it. 'Oh,' I said looking in my pockets. 'I haven't got it, I put it back.' They made a big thing out of it, told my mum and everything, but I still said I didn't do it. But when I got home, I showed my mum my new belonging. She said I should send it back to the school in the post with a sorry note. Sometimes, I say sorry when I don't mean it, just to sort things out. But I couldn't even bare to write Mrs. Edwards, Mrs. Lewis and their "team" a sorry note. I gave it back to Mrs. Edwards though a couple of weeks later when I went back into school. I reluctantly handed it over to her without saying sorry. She was the last person in the world that deserved an apology.

By this time, I wasn't the one person who was getting fed up with the way the school treated me. Following me around, taking me away from my friends, treating me like I am a dangerous person. Both my parents were getting to the end of their tether with it as well. My mum's usually the calm, positive sort- who's more or less dealt with my special needs in school for the past five years. She did stick up for my behind my back- in constant emails to the school of an evening, however, It was probably someone a bit more straight-talking and aggressive was what Stockport needed at that point. I had told my dad bits of it, but one day, he sort of lost it. The next day he rang up the headmaster and demanded a meeting, which, really uncovered some "hidden" secrets. I wasn't allowed in the meeting obviously. My mum didn't go either. I had to wait until later that evening for my dad to fill me in. Apparently I was a risk. A risk to the school, a risk to the staff and a risk to everyone. Apparently, the school thought I wasn't a sexual abuser. So that was all cool. But no, they thought I was a physical assaulter. Yes. Not sexually violent, just violent. Based on the time when I bumped into Mrs. Young. So, if you bump into someone these days, you are automatically made a risk. People who bully others in school and abuse the teachers and stab people in their spare time are risks, not me. I'm basically being treated like one of them. I had no clue about any of this. Apparently, they took risk assessment on me. Based on? The time I pushed Mrs. Green and the time I bumped into Mrs. Young. Ok. So I never hit or punch or kick anyone. If I hurt anyone I hurt myself. Once In year 9 I may have elbowed Mr. Fotopoulos slightly. Once when I got driven to total despair and after Mrs. Green spilt a carton of milk on me and touched me physically, I pushed her slightly. And when I was driven to almost suicide by my obsessional behaviour, I bump into Mrs. Young. And that makes me a risk does it? When so many people in my year get into fights all the time. And I'm a risk for pushing someone and bumping into someone. Because, apart from those three incidents, I have never hurt anyone physically. I don't think I'm a risk. I think that the school are scared of what I'm capable of, and that they don't know what to do about it. I've been called so many wrong things. Sexual abuser, Sexual harasser, Stalker, Physical abuser, a child hitter and a liar. And they are just to name some of the few names the school and other mature adults have thrown in my direction. I cannot be saying I'll be giving any future generations good reviews about Stockport or St James's, too be honest.

I had a good end to my school life. After my exams I went in a couple of more times to finish off my science BETEC, with my science teacher, Mr. Cooper as my personal stalker. Mr. Cooper was the best stalker I ever had. He left me in rooms for a couple of minutes on my own when he went to get things, he let met wait outside classrooms on my own when he went in, he even let me walk up two flights of stairs on my own. I could have done a "runner" to see Mrs. Young all of those times but I didn't. I wouldn't have done that to Mr. Cooper when he was the only one who treated me like a human. I officially finished school on the 22nd of June 2011, after working on my BETEC. I passed science, even though I hated the subject, I also had a GCSE in ICT, which I knew of as it was all course work. Mr. Cooper didn't half make a big deal out of me finishing my BTEC, as if he thought I was never going to finish it. On the way to stalking to me to reception on the day I completed the course, he interrupted a senior staff meeting with all the people who basically hated and doubted in me the past. Miss Ms. Wood and Ms. Nesbitt were among them. Mr. Cooper said, 'This Is Hannah Barlett and she's got a pass in BTEC Science.' He pronounced my last name wrong, but that didn't matter. All the staff in there clapped me rather enthusiastically, as if they thought I was going to fail anything. Even the person who labelled me as a child hitter said well done. But if she meant it, was another story. It was kind of overwhelming. And Mr. Cooper didn't stop there. When we got to reception he got the headmaster and told him I had passed it. He made a noise of enthusiasm and held his hand out. Reluctantly I half shook it.

I knew I already had 2 GCSE's. I had one in science and one in ICT, which I knew as they were all coursework based. I waited all summer feeling really nervous about my results. In the end I only took 6 GCSE subjects and the government average was 5 A*-C. I went on holiday to America over the summer and came back the day before my results came back. It was a night flight so we came into Gatwick early in the morning feeling jetlagged. I went to sleep when I got back home while my mum went to get my GCSE results. I was awoken not long later, by the sound of sniffing at the end of my bed. My mum had my GCSE results in her hand. 'Why are you crying?' I asked her warily.

'You've passed your GCSE's....' She blubbed. 'You've got a B... In English, A B in...Citizenship.....And a C in Science, History and ICT.....' I didn't get emotional about many things, but I honestly felt close to tears too, after everything I had passed my GCSE's!

PART 3:

BEYOND SCHOOL

A Young Man

I left school, trying to turn over a new leaf. It was a new me, I was a different person. And for a while, I believed it. I left school to study a level 3* in childcare. If I passed, it would allow me to study at university and become a teacher. Against Ms. Wood's judgment I still wanted to become a teacher. I was excited about my future; but it didn't go according to plan.

I found it hard to adjust into college life. It was very different from school, there was a lot less structure. I found it difficult to make friends and I spent most of the time on my own. I'll admit I gave up on the course easily and came out of college in March, just under seven months after I started. I couldn't cope with the surroundings and the socialization. Now I wish I stuck at it; as I could have been in my second year of university by now. Instead I stayed at home for a few months at a loss at what to do with my life. Already my future was looking more and more unpredictable. In June of that year, I got my first job. It was an apprenticeship job in a nursery in a upper-class part of North London. My year at ABC Nursery was honestly the best year of my life. I was doing what I was doing best; caring for young children. I worked with the older babies (aged 1-2) years. I found it lovely the way the babies had seemed to of attached themselves to me and depended on me to be fed, changed and played with. One little baby even got so attached to me that he would bang his head on a chair or the floor and scratch himself till he bled if I picked another child up. I had never been in a place before where so many people liked me. I went through school being the unpopular one. But at ABC everyone seemed to like me, children and staff. The staff were all my age and were all quite immature. They liked me because at the start of my employment I was really quiet, although after a while I started to come out of my shell and became one of the loudest there.

I achieved my Level 2 in childcare and left ABC a year after, in June 2013. At this point; I felt I had completely changed. I was sociable, I was confident and more than anything I was no longer obsessed. I honestly thought that my obsessive behavior was no more. But as I was about to find out; I was very wrong.

One of the main reasons I left ABC was that my step mother, Lauren had found a new job for me. She was self employed and did Data related work, travelling across London to do different jobs for different people. She did a lot of work for a council in North London and she had said they would be happy for me to come in for a few months and do some temporary work. Although it was only temporary she said that it might stretch further if I proved myself. I would be being paid triple than what I was on at the nursery and it was shorter hours. It was an offer I couldn't refuse; but I wish I had done. For, at this particular job, I met Daniel. And everything started again.

I started at the council more or less straight after I left ABC Nursery. It was a big council near the London area of Kings Cross. I would be working in Children's services, inputting children's data from data sources across the borough. Lauren accompanied me on my first day of work. Me and Lauren had many ups and downs. She had more or less came bounding into our lives the year before quite literally moving in with my dad straight away. She was 33, 17 years younger than my dad. She was incredibly immature and although I found that fun at times, sometimes she was a bit too much. It was nice having my own desk for the first time. Lauren took the desk next to me and explained to me about the data and how to work everything. Her boss, Susan also came over and introduced herself. 'I'm so glad your here.' Susan said gratefully. 'We are having a bit of a crisis at the moment. There's only two of you on data at the moment, you and Daniel. If you have any questions you should ask him, he knows more than me. He doesn't work on a Monday but he will be in tomorrow.'

'Who's Daniel?' I asked Lauren when Susan had gone.

She smiled. 'He's gonna be your toy boy. We are gonna set you up.'
'Who is he though?'

'He's on a gap year before university. He's your age I think. He's perfect for you!'

Lauren seemed to have this obsession about setting me up with someone. She believed I was lonely and a relationship would cheer my life up a bit. I didn't really care for relationships in anyway. I had no desire to dive into one and loose my virginity as quickly as possible so I could go up on the "coolness scale". I think Lauren was more keen for me to loose my virginity than I was.

'Well we will see.' I said. I could see where this was going. I was almost dreading going in the next morning and facing Daniel. Lauren was working somewhere else the next day but I knew she was going to be texting me about it all morning. The next day, I sat at my desk, swinging round on my chair whenever I heard the door open. It got quite late and I was starting to think that he wasn't coming, when a man who I thought must be Daniel swung open the door. He wasn't my type in the slightest. He was very tall and had his hair neatly combed over. His clothes were rather feminine and to be honest he looked a bit gay. I was relived when I saw him and with a smug smile on my face I quickly text Lauren. _'Haha. He's not my type, told you!! He actually looks gay, I think he's looking for a boyfriend!'_

With me being so against Daniel to start off with, I have no clue how I became obsessed with him. I just remember watching him all the time. I started to feel happy whenever he came through the door in the mornings (usually very late, looking disheveled as if he had just ran the full length of Camden) and used to enjoy watching him come in and out of the door throughout the day to go to the toilet (I also started to suspect a few cigarette breaks after a while). I started to go out of my own way to talk to him, usually making things up about problems with the data we were both inputting or going over to ask him for his stapler even though I didn't need it. After a while I even plucked up the courage to tell Lauren that I was wrong and she was right. Although I was hasten to add that although I liked him he was never going to like me. I was never going to be his type. I almost felt a glimmer of hope at first in this obsession, for the first time I liked someone my own age and a different gender. But after a while I realized I didn't have much more chance of getting with him than I did with Ms. Baker or Mrs. Young. Him being a man and me being a woman and with both of us being the same age I sensed a sexual aspect to the obsession. It was the first time in my life that I ever gave sex a second thought. I talked to Lauren about this, as even though she was immature she was the closest female friend I had which wasn't my own mother. At first I thought it was a crush. As I thought I was well past the obsession phase. 'You might get lucky.' Lauren said. 'Flash him your tits, that would give him some food for thought. You've got nice tits, you need to use them to you advantage.' It wasn't the exact answer I was looking for. My mum also worried about Lauren's impact over me. 'Don't listen to a word the girl says, she's a nutter and she's not a good influence for you. Don't do anything she tells you to do. Especially when it concerns you and Daniel.' I had loosely told my mum about Daniel, but like me, at first she thought it was just a crush.

After a while it was quite clearly obvious that this thing I had with Daniel wasn't a crush. I didn't love him, I found him attractive however he was so far away from my type I wandered why I did. I spent my days looking at him and even started the "Daniel Diaries". I used to work quite quickly whilst at the council, I typed quickly and processed information quickly. As I worked so quickly, I often had little breaks in between inputting. In those breaks, I wrote the "Daniel Diaries." It was almost a minute by minute account of what he was doing. Actions such as "He's just sniffed" and "He's just scratched his head" were common. Anything about him that I could get down, I got down. 'Why don't you ask him out?' Lauren suggested.

'He would never say yes. There's no point.'

'You never know unless you try.' Lauren said. She had a point, however I felt by no means confident to ask Daniel out. I also thought he might be gay. He dressed like he might be and did his hair like he might do. He was quite handsome though; although he was white his skin was slightly darker. The dark skin stood out against his bright blue eyes. He had an ever so slight beard (I was mortified one day when he came in and had shaved if off!). He was quite a quiet boy. Whenever he spoke he spoke quietly and in a nervous tone of voice as if he didn't seem to have much interest in social contact with anyone. I managed to only have one conversation with him that lasted more than 30 seconds.

This was all fine. But it started to get worse and after a while I figured it was another controlling-obsession. I was so confused, I thought I was more than over that stage. I hadn't had an obsession in over two years. At lunchtime I used to follow him. That sounds really bad when written in black and white; but I couldn't help it. I was very conspicuous though and must of looked weird to the passers by. Luckily, being in Central London the street was very busy. He usually walked down the road having a smoke before going into Waitrose or Tesco Express on the High Road. I used to get my lunch from there too. He would then go for a walk down and then back up to the office again. It was summer so most people were spending it outside. I wandered why he didn't sit down in the park or something, he just seemed to want to go for a stroll. I started to get more tense in my "Daniel Diaries". I predicted soon it was going to go down hill. And it did.

At home meanwhile, I had explained to my mum about the obsession, as I did to dad and Lauren. They were in two minds; Mum wanted me to move on and not have anything to do with the place, but Lauren wanted me to try and overcome it. 'If you're lucky, you might get to rip his pants off anyway.' Was Lauren's contribution. I had never thought about ripping any man's pants of before, but the thought did linger in my mind when it came to Daniel. My mum, like me was worried about this obsession going down hill, so she booked an appointment with one of our GP's, Dr. Howell. He further referred me to the adult mental health team run by the NHS. He said it was a long waiting list, but it would be worth it when I got therapy. Over a year and a half later, I am still waiting for that therapy.

I can't remember when the obsession started to get really bad with Daniel. I was starting to get distracted from my work and spent more time writing my "Daniel Diaries". I used to make sure I went to the toilet the same time as he did. That way, he would hold the door open for me on the way back.

I don't know what made me do it. I had an awful feeling in my stomach. My whole body was shaking. Adrenalin was pumping in me. I knew it was wrong but I smiled as I did it. In a way, what I did was entertaining. Although I felt guilty, it was almost fun. One afternoon whilst in the office I made up a fake email address. I disguised myself as a completely different name. I got Daniel's work email address as well as Susan's. I don't know why I did it. I just knew it gave me communication with Daniel. I emailed Daniel and Susan a strange set of emails. All were targeted towards Daniel, with some extreme sexual content. I was sexually frustrated, I suppose you could say. I didn't understand relationships and apart from the little relationship with James, I had never come close to being with a man in anyway. I had focused so much on "my women" that I hadn't ever paid attention to any boys my age. I almost thought the sexual part of the obsession was taking over towards the end.

It was rather amusing. I know I shouldn't say it like that; but it was always so quiet in the office. Nothing dramatic ever happened. After I had sent the emails however, everyone was running about trying to figure out what was going on. I was sitting opposite Daniel, so I could talk to him about it. 'I don't have a clue who it is.' He admitted. 'For some reason someone's trying to get at me and I don't know why.'

I instantly felt bad, so tried to make the situation better. I reassured him, 'It's probably someone just having a joke.'

'I hope so.' He replied. 'I just don't understand how someone's got my work email address. Susan thinks it's someone who works here or used to work here.'

I shuddered slightly. I didn't even think of that. I did it so quickly and impulsively I wasn't really sure what I was doing myself. They were already one step closer to figuring it was me. I went home that evening feeling upset and angry with myself. What an idiot I was. This was the first job where I got paid a decent wage and didn't have to work every hour of the week. I just couldn't control my feelings. Daniel was my first obsession as an adult and I was for sure it wasn't going to be my last.

I went into work the next day and I could tell their was an investigation underway. I could hear Susan muttering to one of her colleagues about who it could be. They were both on Susan's computer, looking at the emails I had sent the day before. I was half watching them and half trying to work at the same time. In the end, Susan got up and headed into the corner to make a call on the mobile. For some reason, I had an inkling it was about me. And sure enough, soon after Susan had come off the phone Lauren text me " _Ring me ASAP"_ it read. I knew it then, I was caught out.

I left it till the end of the day to ring Lauren back. I wanted to try and put off the conversation for as long as possible. At 4.30, I packed up my bag, bid goodbye and walked down to the train station. I stood just before the ticket barriers and rung Lauren. I was shaking- I knew what was coming. 'Come round babe.' She said, before I had even said hello down the phone. Although she lived with my dad part time, she still stayed at her flat during the week. Her flat was in a trendy part of West London and she took pride in the fact that it cost a lot of money. 'It's alright, I'll go home. I've got to... shit!'

I had sworn for the fact that Daniel had appeared next to me. He didn't look at me, he simply got his Oyster Card (Train Ticket) out of his pocket and tapped into the ticket barrier beside me. 'What?' Lauren asked.

'He's just tapped in beside me. God, he's so handsome. I'd have him in bed next to me any day.'

I said, letting my mind wander.

'What? Hannah? Just get yourself to mine, I need to talk to you.'

I tapped in after Daniel and stood over by a wall. I was shaking uncontrollably it felt that my insides were melting. I thought I was going to give way. 'Where are you?' Lauren asked.

'I'm at Kings Cross Station.' I said, commuters pushing past me as I spoke. 'And I feel as if I'm going to have a breakdown. I can't move. I can't speak. I can't breathe.' I said, my voice getting quieter as I progressed the sentence.

'Hannah.' Lauren said irritably. 'I can't help you if you are at bloody Kings Cross. Get your arse on the Hammersmith and City line and come to mine.' She then hung up.

To Lauren's wishes, I trembled as I headed towards the platform to the Hammersmith and City line. Less than 15 minutes later, I was on Lauren's doorstep. She opened the door, standing in trousers and a bra. 'Right...' I said as she stood in the doorway. 'Why are you half naked?'

'Sorry.' She said. 'I heard you knocking and I still had my tits out. I figured you'd rather see my in my bra than nothing at all.'

Shaking my head, I stepped over the threshold. Lauren had quite a nice little flat. I sat in her living room while she got fully dressed. 'I need to talk to you' She said, when she came back in the room fully clothed. 'They know it's you.'

'What's me?' I asked, trying to sound casual.

'That sent those weird emails.'

'How did they know?'

'Well, a few things. One because they thought it anyone would send sexual emails to Daniel it would be you, everyone else in the office is a lot older. Secondly because they knew you had special needs. Thirdly, John said to Susan that you were on your emails a lot.'

'That bastard!' I said. John was a man who sat next to me. He had a habit of looking across to my computer to see what I was doing. 'Such a nosy bastard!'

'Let's talk about it over tea.' Lauren said jumping up. 'Lets hop on the bus and go to Bayswater. I know some amazing places.'

'I'm not hungry.' I replied, bitterly.

'Come on, get up! Get up!' She pulled my arm until I eventually stood up and I let her drag me to one of her favourite Café's in Bayswater. 'Go on, treat yourself Hannah.' She said, shoving a menu in my face. 'I don't want anything,' I repeated for what felt like the tenth time.

Once the waitress had come over, we were still indecisive. 'I'll just have a tap water.' I said, not even looking at the woman.

'You mean I've dragged you all the way to Bayswater so you can have a fucking tap water?'

I then reminded Lauren that it was her idea to go out and not mine. You could tell I was feeling bad, I'd do anything usually for a coke or a nice hot chocolate. I never ever drunk water. 'I thought it was all over.' I confided in Lauren. 'I thought this was no more. I thought I had grown up and moved on. I can't believe this has happened. I thought I had changed. I will never change. It will always be like this. I don't know how it can go on like this forever.'

In the end we had a meeting with Susan over lunch. Lauren explained my problems and that I was lonely. Susan understood and said there were no hard feelings and Daniel didn't know it was me.

My contract naturally ended a week after the incident. I was at home for a few months before I moved onto the most stressful work placement of my life so far.

Fun Start Nursery

I didn't mind too much about being off work for a while. I received money from unemployment benefit and looked for a new job at a leisurely pace. I was in two minds; part of me wanted to go back into childcare and the other half into data and admin. Data and admin paid better but childcare was much more rewarding. I was off work for about 4 months before I started Fun Start. And a new part of my life began.

I had got so desperate for work after a few months that I emailed round the local nurseries to see if they had any vacancies. I had a Level 2 in childcare and was looking to complete my level 3 through another apprenticeship. It would be long hours and rubbish money, but once I had my level 3 it would open new doors. I would be able to go to university and get higher-paying jobs. I still wanted to teach but was just taking one day at a time. I got an email back straight away from Fun start asking me to come in for a trial day. This seemed positive; if I made an impact on my trial day hopefully they would take me on. I didn't have to try hard on my trial day. I was such a natural at playing and looking after the children that I didn't have too. I had my trial day in the 2-3 year old room. I spent the morning playing with the children. They seemed eager to have someone new around to play with. After my trial morning, the manager Emma and the owner Laura called me into the office for my interview. They asked me questions about safeguarding and the EYFS (the National Curriculum for Under 5's). I knew a lot about both, knowledge I had picked up whilst being at ABC Nursery. I got the job In the end. I honestly thought everyone was so friendly. I thought it was going to be perfect. But oh how wrong I was.

Fun Start was like something you would see in a horror movie. At first it was nice, everyone was kind and friendly and the place had a warm feeling. Then quickly it detreated and no one was nice and the place wasn't nice. In a horror movie, people might start killing each other by this point. Although no one at Fun Start killed each other, the environment was so aggressive and hostile I am surprised no one did.

One bad thing about Fun Start was that there was hardly any qualified staff. There were 3 rooms in the nursery, the baby room, the toddler room and the pre-school room. Each room had a room leader and other assistants in the rooms. The assistants were normally apprentices. The apprentices weren't trained properly in the setting and were expected to act like normal members of staff and got in trouble when they did something wrong. I was based in the toddler room. I had a room leader; Amy and two other girls. The two others were apprentices. They weren't great workers, one always got really aggressive with the children and the other spent most of the time wandering around, chatting to staff as she did. Our room leader wasn't great. Amy was lovely; however she was very weak and got controlled by the other people in the room. Without being big-headed, I thought by far I was the most hardworking person in the room. I completed all the paperwork on time, I played with the children constantly unlike the others did. I was even the only one who remembered to prepare their snacks or change their nappies. When I told the others it was nappy time, they looked at me crossly as if I had spoilt their fun. I started to wander after a while that if I wasn't there that their nappies would get done at all. The hard work paid off however and the children were obviously more attached to me more than the other staff in the room. The children liked me so much that they even fought over me. 'My Hannah!' one little girl would say. 'No, she's MY Hannah!' the other one would say. Even though I had to take control of the situation and tell the girls that they had to share me, I secretly liked being fought over. Not many people fought for my attention.

The manager and the owner seemed nice at first. Laura, the owner was slated off on a daily basis by the other members of staff. I started to realize after a while, however that Laura wasn't the person I thought she was. She must of have some sort of bipolar, she had big mood swings, one minute she was the nicest person ever and the next she was quite literally shouting her head off. She had great joy in going to every room in the nursery and pointing out what everyone was doing wrong. Emma, the manager wasn't much different. She seemed to hate certain members of staff for no reason at all. Anyone who wasn't in her circle of friends was an enemy to her. I started to become one of those people after a while. She was so aggressive, shouted at everyone, shouted at the children. She got worse as time went on and she became unbearable to be around.

I could almost cope with that. Although it wasn't the best environment to work it, nothing personal was happening to me. But that was all about to change.

At Fun Start, I got what I thought to believe as my "first crush". I wasn't sure whether it was a crush or an obsession, but either way I believe I fell in love with her. She was my room leader, called Amy. She was mixed raced, her mother was African and her father was white British. She, in my opinion was rather beautiful. She was about 10 years older than me but often sat with me at lunch. She was so incredibly lovely. She was so gentle and kind, I slowly felt myself falling for her. I knew, however that we had no chance together. She was married and had two little boys. It wasn't quite an obsession, but I felt like the crush had obsessive tendencies. I had so many urges to tell her that I loved her. However they weren't on the scale of the other obsessions. I didn't follow her around or try and seek information on her. I still think a lot of her a lot now.

I hadn't, at first told Fun Start I had Asperger Syndrome, like I hadn't told ABC Nursery. I wasn't keeping it a secret, however I just wanted to be treated as normal. A few months after I started work, management sent round a "health questionnaire". It had questions on it about any disabilities. I didn't want to say I didn't as that would be lying. So stupidly, I put that I had Asperger's Syndrome, Dyspraxia and OCD. Oh, what a mistake that was. Soon after the health questionnaires were handed back in, I got called into the manger's office. Laura shouted at me. She asked why didn't I tell them, there may be safeguarding issues etc. She also requested a full medical history on me. I had only told them that I was autistic; not that I had murdered someone. This was when the discrimination started.

Quickly, Emma and Laura changed their attitudes towards me. They began to despise me, almost. I immediately became one of Emma's disliked members of staff. She shouted at me, a lot. Sometimes in front of the children. She picked on me about little things such as spending too long doing something, or that my handwriting was too messy. 'PEOPLE IN THIS PLACE WILL HAVE TO GET HANDWRITING LESSONS, I DON'T CARE WHAT PROBLEMS YOU HAVE YOU WON'T BE HERE IF YOU CAN'T WRITE PROPERLY!' was one of her hysterical rants to me one day. I couldn't write very neatly, as I had dyspraxia but it wasn't _that_ bad. I was so busy during the day watching the children that when I did write it was hurried, I didn't want to take my eyes of the children for a second. Emma knew I had dyspraxia, so it made me upset that she thought it was ok to shout at me for it.

Laura was similar to Emma, but worse. She started to treat me as if I was a cross between someone seriously disabled and an axe murderer. Laura made me feel awful. She told other members of staff that I wasn't allowed on my own with the children and that I had to be watched at all times. This made me so angry; considering I felt I was the only one who did my job properly in the toddler room and I was the only one being watched. Laura said I was banned from carrying knives around and once when she walked past me as I lifted a table to move it she said 'Please don't whack a child round the head with that will you?' I dropped the table after she said it, so it hit the floor with a bang. Amy had the children on the carpet and was singing to them, whilst I was moving the tables so I could put the children's sleep mats out for their nap. I was across the room from the children and was innocently lifting a table. Amy shook her head in disgust. 'She's so awful. Are you alright?'

I nodded. Of course I wasn't alright. There was basically an assumption going on that I would hurt a child. I was the only one who played with the children. I was the only one who remembered to change their nappies. I was the only one who didn't raise their voice at them. Yet, I was the one who was apparently a danger to the children. All because I had autism.

I didn't fight back for a while. I didn't even know what to say to her. One time however, I couldn't help it. It was just after lunch and I was told to go and cover in the baby room. I loved going into the baby room every so often. The babies were still asleep, but one little boy had woken up and was grizzly. I picked him up straight away as I walked in and took him over to the window. The babies loved to look out at the road outside and watch the cars and red buses roll by. I was interrupted however by Lucy, a girl who worked in the Pre-school room. 'Laura said you have to go downstairs. You are not allowed in baby room.' She hesitated before saying the next bit. 'And you have to put the baby down. You're not allowed to pick children up.' It took me a minute to take in what had just been said to me. 'What?' I asked Lucy.

'Don't shoot me, I'm just the messenger.'

'Right. That's it! Here, take this one. Sorry darling.' I said to the baby as I handed him to Lucy.

I charged downstairs to the office like an angry bull. Laura was standing outside the office putting a display up.

'What's your problem?' I asked.

'You're upset aren't you? I'm sorry Hannah, I have to have a full medical history. You have Dyspraxia, right?'

I nodded.

'Well that's the problem.' Laura continued. 'We had a girl here before with Dyspraxia and she couldn't pick up children.'

'Well, everyone's different. I've worked in the baby room at my old nursery for a year and guess what? No children were dropped. Seriously, I'm not going to drop a baby.'

In the end she simply told me to go back in the toddler room. I was fuming- however I wasn't taking her seriously. I still picked up children. When Emma sent me up to baby room one day when Laura wasn't round, I picked a child up and pretended to drop her. 'Oh sorry! Nearly dropped you there!' the other staff, who had heard about Laura's accusation laughed.

Laura calmed down after a while and so did Emma. Emma still disliked me with a passion. She caused me many stressful situations. It's even making me stressed just writing it down. She was so awful. It's something I will never forgive. For example once, when I had an appointment with the mental health team that I had scheduled with her months ago, she wouldn't let me go to it as the children's play room wasn't tidy. I was so stressed, I cried, I was quite hysterical. In the end she only let me go when I threatened to walk out and never come back. Emma had taken a disliking to Lucy, also. Lucy was a very good worker and in my opinion was the best worker in the Pre-School room. She was the only one who played with the children, the other staff just talked amongst each other and went wandering. I had no idea what was so wrong with Lucy, but Emma treated her worse than anyone. She literally screamed in her face in every opportunity, once it was so bad I had tears in my eyes when it wasn't even me being shouted at. I got quite friendly with Lucy and I even got invited out to her birthday meal. It was the first time in years anyone had invited me to their birthday. I also got quite friendly with Rebecca, a girl who worked in the baby room. She lived near me so we travelled together in the mornings and the evenings. For the first time in years, I actually had friends. It almost made me forget the other stuff that was going on around me.

I survived at Fun Start for 7 months. In June 2014, I simply couldn't take it anymore. I still wanted to work there deep down but everything had gone so wrong. Worse that it had ever been before. Staff were leaving left right and centre, Laura was getting more stressed and we had new staff coming in that didn't have a clue what they were doing. Amy moved upstairs to lead baby room and by June I was working with a whole different staff team. The room leader couldn't do her job properly and for a month or so I pretty much ran the room. I worked about 45 hours a week and was on £2.78 an hour. I didn't get paid extra for overtime and I was lucky if I got paid it at all. After one particularly stressful day, I was in the kitchen cutting the children's fruit. I didn't know what to do, I was so upset and annoyed. I wanted to stay at Fun Start, for the children's sake but couldn't deal with the staff any longer. I chopped angrily at the fruit when the deputy manager, Helen came in. I loved Helen. She was a lovely woman. She was very mature and was a deputy manager even though she was only 20, a year older than me. I confided in her and told her I was stressed. I told her, 'When I used to get stressed, I cut myself.' Helen suddenly gasped. It must have looked bad, I suppose as I did have a knife in my hand at the time.

Helen reported the so called 'incident' to Laura and Emma. They both had me in the office quizzing me. They asked me about my history of self-harming. I tried to be as vague as possible so not to dig myself a deeper hole. They were aggressive at first but softened up to me towards the end. 'I am going to have to suspend you until we get full medical clarification from you doctor and your full medical history.' I nodded.

I obviously needed a bit of a break so I wasn't upset when Laura told me I couldn't come back in until I had spoken to my doctor. I went home estimating I would be off for about a week. That would give me a break and a chance to speak to a doctor about giving Fun Start medical clarification. It would be simple, I thought.

But it wasn't. It wasn't simple at all. For this incident at Fun start triggered another hard period in my life. If not, my hardest one.

Dr. Hesketh

Immediately after I left Fun Start I felt instantly stupid about what I had done. I was such an idiot for letting it all get to me, however there was only so much a human could cope with. I honestly thought I would go home for a week, maybe pay a visit to a GP before striding back into Fun Start the following Monday. However, it didn't happen that way. A massive new part of my life was beginning. The next six or so months were without a doubt some of the hardest of my life and apart from the stress that Fun Start gave me, all my stress and obsessiveness, yet again came down to one woman.

As Laura was clear that she wanted medical evidence for me to return to work, the first step was getting an appointment with the GP's at our local surgery, The Forest Medical Centre. I had been going there on and off since I was a baby, but this was going to be the only time it meant something too me. The Forest Medical Centre was a large medical centre, catering for the town I lived in as well as the surrounding villages. It had a list of nearly 20,000 patients. This reflected when you entered the practice, the waiting room was always busy, usually full of screaming children waiting for their appointment. The doctors were always late with appointments, sometimes by hours. There was six partner doctors, who had been there since I was a baby and there was what I called the "stray doctors". The stray doctors didn't seem to stay for long and had a high staff turnover, so you never really got to know them well. I knew of a few partner doctors before I came to Forest on this particular visit after I came on sick leave from Fun Start. I knew there was Dr. Richter, who was are family doctor. I also knew of Dr. Ashwell who was the lead partner at the Forest Medical Centre. I had also heard of Dr. Hesketh, without any explanations, she was always at the bottom of the letters I got from the NHS concerning therapy or any other treatment. Any letter I got from the NHS had to be passed onto a GP, and it was usually Dr. Hesketh's name at the bottom. There was also Dr. Howell who I saw the year before when I was having the obsession with Daniel. I remember seeing him a few times. He was quite serious as a doctor, although he 'got the job done' as they say. Another thing about the Forest Medical Centre was that it was always ages until you could get an appointment. We needed an appointment fast, to try and get this work return started, as it did me no good being at home all day. My mum went to work the next day and I was instructed to call the surgery when I woke up and ask to me contacted by the "duty doctor." The duty doctor is one of the doctors (usually a partner or high-profile doctor) who will see the patient on the same day if it was deemed important enough. 'Make it sound worse than it actually is.' My mum advised, 'otherwise we won't get an appointment.' I sat in the living room all morning by the home phone waiting for the duty doctor to ring me (I had rung up reception earlier in the morning to ask them for the duty doctor to ring me). When he finally rung, it made me jump. I picked up the phone quickly. I had a speech in my mind and had been reciting it to myself, but by the time the doctor had started to talk to me, I had forgotten it. 'Hello, it's Dr. Singh from the Forest Medical Centre.' I knew Dr. Singh vaguely, he was one of the high profile doctors. He was very tall and Indian (and in my opinion very handsome!) 'How may I help you?' he asked.

'Well..' I started. 'Something happened at work, I said I cut myself, but I didn't, but I used too and-'

He then cut me off, probably fed up with my worthless babbling.

'Ten past five with Dr. Hesketh.' He said, with a bored tone of voice.

'Oh.' I said, quietly offended he had cut me off. 'Thanks, I guess.'

I didn't think about the appointment again until my mum came home and asked me how I got on. 'Oh, we've got an appointment with some girl with Dr. Hesketh.' I said.

My mum nodded and went back to what she was doing.

'Is she nice? Is she black or white? I can't remember seeing her much?' I asked my mum, trying to get an image in my head of her.

'She's white, she's nice, yes. When your brother was younger, he was really ill and we saw Dr. Hesketh quite a lot, she was our doctor then. I spent a lot of time with her, it will be nice to see her again. She's sort of short with dark hair...I'm not really sure to be honest, I haven't seen her in a few years.'

I racked my brains trying to think. Usually I was good at remembering people and faces.

'She's married to Dr. Khan, do you know him?' my mum asked.

I immediately jumped up. 'Oh the fit Asian one?' I had been discovering my sexuality more and more in the recent months and had begun to have a slight attraction to Asian and mixed-raced men. I could remember an incredibly nice looking young Asian doctor who had prescribed me some antibiotics two years previously. Although I thought he looked quite young, probably too young for someone who could be with Dr. Hesketh (my mum told me she was the same age as her) I remember seeing pictures of his children on his desk and saw that his children seemed to be light Asian, as if they had a white mother. I immediately thought how lucky Dr. Hesketh was.

With Dr. Hesketh's fit husband aside I went to the Forest Medical Centre at 5 o'clock with a determination to get in and out as quickly as possible. I didn't particularly like doctors surgery's. When I checked in and the front desk, the receptionist looked up at me sympathetically and said 'sorry, Dr. Hesketh is running a bit late today.' My mum rolled her eyes as we left and went to sit in the waiting room. 'They never say they are late; so now they've admitted it it's almost certain that she's going to be very late.' We must of sat there for an hour, before we even got a glimpse of Dr. Hesketh. I think I spent the hour irritating my mother, by talking to her non-stop. Whenever a doctor came out to call in a patient, I would quiz her about them. After what seemed like ages, I had gone quiet and started to play a game on my phone. My mum poked me and pointed to someone. 'That's Dr. Hesketh, look.' She said, pointing. She was pointing at a short woman who was trying to bustle through the crowds of people. It looked like she had just come from the staff car park. It was an odd thing in itself; as Dr. Singh had rung me that afternoon which meant he was the duty doctor, however he must have had to leave early for some reason, which is why Dr. Hesketh stepped in. Now, I wish Dr. Singh didn't leave early. I wish I saw Dr. Singh instead.

It still took another half an hour for Dr. Hesketh to call us into her room. 'I wander if she'll remember you.' I asked my mum as we were waiting.

'Maybe. Although she probably sees so many people; I'm sure I'm not that memorable.'

We were sitting in an almost empty waiting room when we finally got called. I heard the distant voice of 'Hannah Barlett' from down the corridor. I immediately pushed my mum in front of me as we walked towards her. 'You go first.' I muttered to her. Dr. Hesketh was waiting at the end of the corridor for us. 'Hello, Lisa.' She said, cheerily to my mum. 'Go and take a seat.' I was surprised she remembered my mum's name and her face. As it was my appointment she simply had my name and my age, it said nothing on my medical records that I had a mum called Lisa. I wasn't sure whether she recognized my mum's face or our unusual surname. That was the first thing about Dr. Hesketh, she had a freakishly good memory. 'I've just got to go and speak to another doctor quickly, but make your self comfortable.' We headed into her room, which had _DR. S HESKETH_ on the door. I took the seat nearest her desk while my mum took the seat further away. I had a stab of excitement whilst waiting for Dr. Hesketh, it was probably hysteria, after waiting in the waiting room for so long. 'What's she doing?' my mum asked, putting her head in her hands.

'Probably deep in a sex session with her hubby a few doors down.'

'What?!' My mum exclaimed.

'You said-'

'What if she came in when you said that? You really need to watch your mouth, it gets you into too much trouble!'

Ignoring the criticism, I grabbed a card that was on Dr. Hesketh's desk and read in inside. ' _Dear Lisa, thanks for all your help this year, love and best wishes, Sarah xx.'_

'Oh, she's called Lisa too, you girls have so much in common!'

'No, she's called Sarah. Her assistant's called Lisa. Hannah, put the card down.'

I then spotted something else, a picture of two boys on Dr. Hesketh's desk. 'Aw, are these baby Khan's?' I asked, picking the picture off the desk. The boys looked identical, apart from the fact that one of them was younger. The younger son also possessed a darker tone of skin. I jumped as the door handle turned and Dr. Hesketh came in. I quickly put the photo back, trying to look natural. 'Sorry.' She apologized. 'It's just been one of those days today.' She said opposite me in her desk chair. She leaned forward towards me, clasping her hands together. Although I'm not great with facial expressions, I could tell by her face that she was listening hard to what I was about to say. 'How may I help you?' She asked. It was the first time I got to see her in detail. She was quite a short woman, no more than 5"2 to my 5"9. She had brown wavy hair, that was just above her shoulders. She looked old, with her wrinkles and age spots (or liver spots as they are sometimes known) showing that she was middle-aged.

'I have anxiety.' I said, loosely. 'And it's bothering me.' Dr. Hesketh asked the standard questions; how long I have had it, whether I had been treated for it before, etc. Although I did have a lot of anxiety, it didn't usually effect my work life too much, I just had to say I had anxiety so I could get back to work. It was a bit backwards, I know, but my mum reassured me that if Dr. Hesketh singed me off sick from work and singed me back on again I should be fine. Dr. Hesketh's face was full of pure sympathy. I felt so at ease talking to her, I knew she was listening and I knew she was trying to understand. As she spoke, her voice also sounded sympathetic. 'Do you want me to sign you off work for a while?' She asked. 'Would that help?' I can't even describe how her lovely voice made me feel; after months of being surrounded by constant aggression and hostility, I forgot that there were nice people in the world.

Dr. Hesketh gave me a sick certificate for work, that stated I wasn't fit for work. She also wrote to someone in the NHS (National Health Service) to hurry up my therapy appointment. I seemed to of had a long, hard battle with the NHS. Especially since I turned an adult and came out of the CAHMS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service). When I had the obsession with Daniel the summer before, I went to see my GP Dr. Howell who referred me to the NHS for therapy. The following January, I got an appointment and had a series of assessments. Over a year later, when I went to see Dr. Hesketh I was still waiting for an appointment. Although I should be happy that in Britain we get free healthcare, I hate the NHS with a passion and I was about to hate it even more. My dad had private healthcare that he got through work, but the private sector doesn't treat anyone with long life conditions, such as Asperger Syndrome, but more so people with temporary problems. Dr. Hesketh also prescribed me with medication. It was the first time I had been given drugs for my mental health. My mum was always against it, but I think by this point she had come to agree that it may be worth a try. 'You would never guess how many people are on medication these days.' Dr. Hesketh reassured my mum. 'Life's hard.' She admitted. I struggled to think what was so hard about her life. She had a partner, a nice house, a good, stable job and children. 'it was nice seeing you again doctor.' My mum said to Dr. Hesketh, as we left.

'Nice to see you too Lisa. It was also lovely to see you Hannah. I haven't seen you since you were a little girl.' She said, smiling at me. I smiled back politely.

I didn't think much about Dr. Hesketh until I went to the Forest Medical Centre the next day, to pick up my prescription from the onsite chemist. The sticker on the bag that the medication came in said " _Prescribed for Hannah Barlett by Dr. Sarah Hesketh."_

'Mum?' I asked her as we left the chemists. 'Who's your favourite doctor at the surgery?'

'I like Dr. Hesketh. I like Dr. Khan as well. They are probably my two favourites, they are the nicest doctors there.'

'A match made in heaven then?' I asked, half sarcastically.

I asked my dad the same question when I next saw him. 'I like Hesketh. I like her husband as well, what's his name? it's Khan init?'

'Yeah, Dr. Khan.'

'Arabic bloke isn't he?'

'Not a clue.' I replied.

'Westernized guy though.' He said.

Being at home all day, gave me the opportunity to do a bit of research on Dr. Hesketh. I was beginning to feel after a while that it was turning into an obsession....but why? I seemed to of spent half of my life in appointments with professionals, whether it was doctors, therapists, psychiatrists, phycologists and other professionals alike. Why Dr. Hesketh? I would of never I would of got obsessed with a GP, I've seen loads of them in the past. I put it down to the situation I was in; I was quite vulnerable and was in a difficult situation. Dr. Hesketh was the only one who had been nice to me in such a long time. I guess she was in the right place at the right time. Or in her case, the wrong place at the wrong time. I found out, from my research on Dr. Hesketh was 46 and that she had been married to Dr. Khan since the mid-90s and they had three children together. They lived in an isolated village not too far away. I say it's isolated for the fact that there was no way of accessing it; there was no buses and it was over a two hour walk. Dr. Hesketh filled my mind, day and night. It was more confusing than the obsession with Daniel. It's hard to describe how I felt and even more so why I felt that way. The obsession was an intrusion to my mind. I felt addicted to her. I felt I wanted her, I needed her and I couldn't function without her, which may seem very similar to people who are addicted to drugs. Dr. Hesketh was my drug.

In almost every obsession, I had a slight addiction to Facebook. It was the best way to find things out about people and I found that people put way too much on the internet. Although I hadn't been too bothered about Facebook in my obsession with Daniel; I'm going way back to the days when I was obsessed with Ms. Baker, when I would look at Facebook to desperately find information about her. I also of course contacted her daughter quite a bit. Of course I didn't want to do down that road again; I had the police after me last time. However, I had no self-control. I fought hard at first to even do a facebook search on her, as I knew that when I did there was no turning back. Whenever I had an urge to do something, my heart would beat fast and my stoumach would jump. My head would buzz and the buzzing would go into my hands and into my legs. It actually made me feel ill. I'm quite a strong person usually but at that time I was everything but that. It didn't take long until I couldn't fight the urge any longer.

I first had a little search on Facebook. Most people seem to be on Facebook these days, displaying their lives in statuses and photos for the world to see. I was quite surprised when I couldn't find Dr. Hesketh or Dr. Khan. But I did find a couple of other doctors from the Forest Medical Centre, along with Dr. Hesketh's 13 year old son, Alfie.

And after that, as a person, I changed. My mental health at it's worst.

The Worst Yet

I generally like to think myself of a nice and kind person. Granted; some of the things I have done in my past haven't been nice or kind but I felt myself as a different person. I went into work everyday trusted around the lives of young children. I played with them, fed them and changed their nappies. I think the parents, who trusted and were thankful of me so much, would be horrified at the things I got up too after I went on sick leave from Fun Start. I think I enjoyed being with the children as they were so innocent. They weren't there to judge you or make life difficult. They looked at things in very black and white. For example, out of the four staff in the toddler room, I was the one who used to play with the children the most. The other staff just chatted to each other or went across to the pre-school room to chat to them instead. Naturally, the children enjoyed my company and were attached to me as I spent most of the time with them. The thought of this gave me partial faith in myself. I was never a danger to the children and I never would be.

About 2 weeks after I first saw Dr. Hesketh, at the beginning of July I, in hindsight, broke the law. I spent all day, everyday thinking how I could get more information on Dr. Hesketh. I even considered going to have a look at the village she lived in a few times, but there were no buses and it was over a 2 hour walk from my house. A few times, on the days that I felt most obsessed, I deeply considered doing the 2 hour walk. But I knew myself too well; I was quite physically un-fit and might have been able to do the 2 hour walk there but wouldn't of made it back. Frustrated about this and among other things; I had an idea. I kept an eye on her son's profile, but it was completely private. I thought if I could somehow get onto his profile... I had done this before to other people I had been obsessed with; especially with Ms. Baker, my overpowering obsession whilst I was in school. I would usually make a fake account of someone they knew and stick a couple of pictures on there to make it more realistically. I racked my brains about who I could think about pretending to be to befriend Dr. Hesketh's son. I thought at first about being Dr. Hesketh herself- or Dr. Khan, but It would be too easy for him to find out that it wasn't his mum or dad. In the end, I settled for Dr. Hesketh's father, Peter Hesketh. I didn't have much information about him to put on his profile; and I wandered whether it was worth it. But I found out, it was. I did it of an evening; patiently waiting for the notification to come through on the phone to say he had accepted the friend request. He didn't accept it till the next morning and found out about it until I woke up. His profile wasn't very informative and he obviously didn't spend a lot of time on it. He didn't have any pictures either, except a few pictures of himself. I instantly felt sorry for him as I scrolled down his profile. He didn't seem the most popular child going, from looking at the comments on his photos and his statuses written by his class mates. Dr. Hesketh's children went to a high profile private international school, where you would think children would be a bit nicer to each other, rather in your average comprehensive where bullying was more common. It wasn't particularly abusive bullying that Alfie received; I would more describe it as "banter". Banter, for those who don't know, is a phrase ripe with English teenagers at the moment and is the exchanging of teasing and name calling, but not on a particularly high bullying level. I guess some children are just unpopular and I know from experience that often there is no given reason why a teenager could be unpopular and be the victim of some banter. I guess Alfie Khan was one of these children.

That wasn't the worst thing I had done- that was just minor. I left the profile for a few days, before going back to it on a day I felt particularly obsessive. I ended up starting a conversation with him. Just before I did this; I honestly felt like a different person. I had complete tunnel vision. I _was_ going to find out more about Dr. Hesketh and to put it flatly; I didn't care who I hurt along the way. I tried to have a typical conversation with him that a granddad would have with his grandson over the internet. I asked him how he, his brother and sister where, when they broke up from school for the holidays, if Dr. Hesketh had any time off in the summer holidays. His answers were quite one-sided, as if he didn't have a particular interest in talking to me. I left him for a while after that, as I didn't want to harass him. One day however, I had an idea. Scrolling through his friends list, I saw quite a few Khan's on there. I know that Khan was a popular name, however doing some research on Dr. Khan's family, none of the names on the list seemed overly familiar. I then came to the conclusion that he was trying to contact- or befriend distant relatives. I then made a new profile, becoming Nassiff Khan, from Kabul in Afghanistan. Like I said before, it was to be the worst thing I had ever done, and although many people may not appreciate that, it's painful to write about it. I can't express how much this was out of character and how sorry I am now, for all the pain and destruction it caused.

I wandered, during the time that I had communication with Dr. Hesketh's son, that I had some kind of split personality disorder. During the time where I pretended to be Nassiff, I almost felt like him. I almost felt like I was in Kabul myself, sitting behind the computer. That's why I mentioned that it was so out of character, It wasn't Hannah when I wrote it. I knew Dr. Khan spoke Pashto, which is one of the main languages in Afghanistan. When I spoke to Alfie, I deliberately changed the spelling of some words to make it seem like I had issues speaking English. I thought a lot about what to say and although I still have the messages now, they are ever so slightly altered to help protect the people involved. " _Helloe Alfie, I've been trying to retrace my familie history and I discovered that we are distante cousins, my great granddad was your granddads cousine. Sorry for my spellin I don't speak English very well. Do you speake some Pashto? Were you born in Afghanistan?"_ I didn't know whether he would buy it or not. I knew I wouldn't it some random man contacted me and even if he did I wouldn't share as much details as Alfie later did. However, Alfie's age obviously reflected on his actions. I was exactly the same when I was his age. He replied quite quickly, with: _"My father's name is Amman Khan and his father was called Ajmal Khan. I wander if you could email me with the records found concerning our relationship? I would be interested in receiving those. I do speak Pashto, to a good standard as my father taught me. I am partly English as my mum is from Birmingham in the middle of England. Thanks ever so much for getting in touch, Love Alfie."_ I smiled at his innocent young self. He seemed a very polite boy however, with his spelling and grammar immaculate. I suddenly felt a pang of jealousy. This pang made me go even further. I wanted constant contact regarding Dr. Hesketh, so without asking him directly, I came up with this: " _Hi Alfie, I would lov you to tell me mor about your familie. I live with my wife and sons in Kabul."_ I hoped this would prompt him to talk about Dr. Hesketh, but his mother didn't seem to be a topic on Alfie's mind. " _How are you and your family coping in the current situation?"_ Alfie replied back. " _I am currently in Canada for a school trip but when I get back to England I will ask my father and uncle and see if I can help you in anyway if you and your family are struggling. By the way, I have a younger sister called Zoe who is 11 and a brother called Charlie who is 8. Love to your family, Love Alfie."_ It was nice to see a young teenager who knew what was going on in the world. I don't think I even knew who the Prime Minister was when I was his age, let alone the "current situation" in the Middle East. It was quite admirable that his parents taught him about the world around him. It made me feel for Dr. Hesketh even more. I exchanged a few more messages with Alfie. Alfie seemed to idolize his father. I'm sure though he only made him out to be so great to me as he was trying to impress me with his Afghan routes. His father was apparently 'A doctor who has a speciality in training other doctors who's worked at his current surgery for 15 years and partly owns it.' His mum was simply 'A doctor who worked at the same surgery my dad'. I left Alfie alone for a while after that, I knew he was busy on his school trip and he seemed to be less and less interested in replying to my messages after time went on. Although it wasn't finished there.

A few weeks later, me and my family went shopping to Bluewater, a big shopping Centre in Kent in the South East of England. It was the middle of July and in the coming weeks we were due to go on a big family holiday to Florida and had to go shopping for some last minute bits. I don't know what made me do it. I don't know what made me contact Alfie again. I was occupied at the time so being bored couldn't be the reason. My mum, who had since found out about the obsession with Dr. Hesketh was keeping an eye on me. She knew all too well what I was like and what I did when I was obsessed. I had managed to google "Some random Afghan kids" to get a picture of a boy and a girl to send to Alfie. " _Hi, Alfie. This is a picture of my son and my niece. Have you any pictures of your familie?"_ It didn't take him long to reply back and I got exactly what I asked for. I can remember sitting in a shoe shop, watching my sister Eva try on some shoes when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I opened up the message (holding the phone high above my head as I had limited phone signal) The message said: " _This is a picture of me, my father and mother."_ I was also amused by his old fashioned terms of _mother_ and _father_ I wasn't sure whether he genuinely used those terms (Dr. Hesketh did seem rather on the posh side.) or whether he was just trying to impress me with his English skills. Attached with the photo was two pictures. One picture of Alfie and Dr. Khan and the other of Dr. Hesketh by herself. I didn't know which one to look at first, my finger hovered over both of them before I clicked on the one of Dr. Khan and Alfie. Dr. Khan wasn't the "fit Asian one" like I first thought. In fact, he was incredibly far from it. He was quite a large man, with an incredibly big waist. He had short tufts of grey hair protruding from his head. I knew he was only 44 to Dr. Hesketh's 46, however he looked a lot older. Much like Dr. Hesketh herself. He was mixed white and Asian, as I found out his mother was actually Scottish and his father was Afghan. I then looked at the picture of Dr. Hesketh on her own. It didn't look like her at all and for one wild moment I thought I had got the wrong boy. However, when I opened the photo I could see it was her. She was sitting on the beach on a bench, holding a bicycle helmet. It seemed like a windy day; the bushes behind her were blowing with the winds. Her face was screwed up, as if her herself was trying to battle with the winds. She looked like she was trying to force a smile. She had a dark yellow jacket on, and a flowery top on underneath. I could kind of guess Dr. Hesketh's clothing style by now as she wore a similar outfit when I saw her for the first time. 'Hannah, what are you doing?' My mum snapped. She usually snapped at me when I was doing anything slightly suspishous. 'Oh, nothing.' I said, casually. My brother Max, however, who had an uncanny knack for looking over my shoulder told her I was looking at some picture that was send to my by 'some kid called Khan'. My brother was only 15; but was a towering 6 foot 2 inches. I was 5 foot 9, which was quite tall for a woman, but he could still easily tower over me. 'Who?!' My mum asked, the panick rising in her voice. Apart from quite obviously damaging Dr. Hesketh in her family in the process that followed, I also felt sorry for my mum. I think in the months that followed she nearly had a breakdown. Me and my mum ended up having a big argument after that. Her voice was low and dangerous as she spoke to me, unlike it usually was. 'Do what you want to adults.' She said. 'But do not fuck with peoples children. Dr. Hesketh is obviously a nice woman; however parents, especially mothers get angry when it concerns their children.' Of course I understood. I looked after children for a job; It was my job to protect them and I would feel ever so guilty if something happened to them. Although it's not quite the same as a mother and her child, I understand the anxiety and protecivness that comes when you are looking after young lives. I send one more message to Alfie, to try and keep the conversation calm so he didn't suspect anything. I asked him what his mother's name was, although of course I knew perfetley well already. " _Sorry, I forgot to tell you, She's called Sarah."_ Alfie replied.

I left Alfie alone after that. Not because I wanted too. I think by now I was coming to realize that I had very little control over my actions. People reading this might get annoyed, thinking that I can have self control. Sadly, this is because people view mental illness as something that can get better. All the person needs to do is "Snap out of it". I view someone who has little self control the same as someone who has a broken leg. Don't tell someone with a mental illness that they have self control unless you tell someone with a broken leg they can run a marathon.

Not long after the dreaded Bluewater trip, I got an email from Fun Start. I hadn't exchanged that many emails from them since I left. I thought that after Dr. Hesketh singed me fit for work that there would be no further issues. However, I was wrong. Fun Start sent a very unproffesional email asking me to ask my doctor for my full medical history. Of course, it would have been so much more professional to contact Dr. Hesketh directly. Although I knew there was a fee to send a letter directly to a doctor at Forest, so I figured that that was what they were trying to avoid. I wasn't sure how to approach this; I didn't want them having my full medical history. My mum was also stuck for answers, so she rung up the Forest and asked them if she could speak to Dr. Hesketh. They said that Dr. Hesketh was busy but she would ring back. I was going to see her in less than two weeks anyway, but I was desperate to get information as soon as possible.

It was hard to describe how I felt about Dr Hesketh. There was some attraction in there and like the obsession with Daniel, I belive it was also sexual, although in my mum's words 'It's not sexual, you just think that because you think it's what your meant to think when you like someone. Hannah, face it, you don't want sex with a 48 year old woman.' Which was probably true. My mum is doing a degree in psychology so was always trying out her theories on me. I was very excited to be seeing Dr. Hesketh again, just a few days before I was due to go to America. I was seeing her again to get another certificate for work and to get another pack of pills. However my excitement was short lived as the phone rang one afternoon. I was nearest to it, but I was in deep conversation with someone from work via Facebook, so I simply picked up the phone and handed it to my mother, not speaking into it. 'Hello?' My mum asked into the phone.

She smiled when she heard the reply. She mouthed 'It's Dr. Hesketh.' I now wished I had answered it.

I was literally huddled up to my mum trying to hear what Dr. Hesketh was saying down the phone. 'We're going to see you next week anyway doctor, so we can talk then.' My mum said.

'Next Week?'

'Yes, we have an appointment.'

'Oh, I don't know why they've given you that for as I'm on holiday next week for two weeks.'

'WHY'D THEY GIVE IT TO US THEN?' I shouted. Not necessarily at Dr. Hesketh, or my mum just to anyone who would listen. After looking forward to seeing Dr. Hesketh I had to re-schedule an appointment. 'Cheer up!' My mum said. 'We're going to Florida next week!' But unfortunately the holiday wasn't all fun in the sun.

A Surprise In The Sun

I had been looking forward to the holiday in Florida for a long time. My mum had got a sum of money after her divorce from my dad and decided to spend some of it on a nice family holiday. She wanted to go to New York- but I encouraged her greatly to go back to Disneyworld. My family were kind of Disney addicts and Disneyland has been a big part of my childhood. I went to Disneyland in Paris 10 times, when I was 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 14, 17 and 18. I've been to Disneyworld in Florida four times, when I was 11, 12, 16 and 19. That's a grand total of 14 times, which may be ridiculous to some! It was going to be a special holiday; as it would be the last time we were going to go back to Disney, Florida in particular. Even though it was an amazing holiday, I couldn't help but think a lot about Dr. Hesketh. I kept a diary from the time I was in Florida, detailing my feelings for her. I was trying to do a bit of psychology of my own, in an attempt too realize why I felt this way about her and how I acted the way I did whilst I was obsessed with her and how I had little control of my actions when I was. " _Is it wrong in thinking she's attractive?"_ Was one of my diary entries for that week. " _I feel such an attraction to her although I don't know why. She's probably sitting there now, in her little thatched cottage...It will be evening now in England, I wander what she's doing? She's probably cuddled up in bed with Khan....doing...."_ I stopped the entry there, I couldn't bare to think about what they were doing together. I suddenly felt such a stab of hate and anger towards Dr. Khan, I often had horrible images of them in bed together; which filled my brain on numerous occasions.

I had a few surprises whilst I was in Florida. The first shocking surprise happened on the first full day. It was so surreal, I still can't believe it happened now. One of the best things about going on that holiday was that I was getting away from everyone. Fun Start, The Forest Medical Centre. But one person, seemed to follow me there. We were spending the afternoon in the hotel, it had a lovely pool which me and my mum were going to go and check out. 'Put this on now.' She said, chucking my bikini at me. 'There may not be any changing rooms when we get down there.' It was the first time I had ever worn a bikini. Usually I wore quite a modest swimming costume. For some reason however, I wanted to wear a bikini on this holiday, although I was worried when it came to people seeing me in it. 'Stop moaning Hannah.' My mum said, impatiently. 'You are a size 6. You've got an amazing body. It's hardly like you are going to see anyone down there you know is it?' But for once, my mum was completely wrong. As we entered the pool complex, it was full of people enjoying the sun. I had barely stepped over the threshold however when I heard a voice shout 'Hannah! Hannah!' I couldn't believe who was sitting in the deckchair in front of me. Out of all the people I could of seen in that deckchair, obviously Dr. Hesketh would of surprised me the most. But I think the second most surprising person was sitting in the deckchair. It was Laura, from Fun Start. 'Who's that woman calling your name?' My mum asked.

'It's bloody Laura. For fucks sake, what's she doing here?'

I politely wandered over to her, trying to cover up my body as I went. She didn't seem that surprised to see me there. She was quite relaxed and seemed calmer than her usual manic self. Oddly enough, she knew that I was going to be in Florida on that week, as I had told her I couldn't come in for a meeting with her. But it still must have been shocking for her, apparently Disney World is as big as the city of San Francisco. 'Are you ok?' Laura asked me. I couldn't even answer her. I had come thousands of miles away, to get away from all of this and there she was, on a deckchair. My mum politely spoke to her, about the weather. 'We're off tonight anyway, our plane leaves this evening.' She said. I was immediately relived that I wouldn't have to bump into her again. Once was more than enough. As my mum was talking to her, I slipped my phone out of my pocket. I looked like I was texting, but I took a picture of Laura on the deckchair and then her husband David when he came over to us. I sent the picture to Amy, Rebecca and Lucy. They were also incredibly shocked. I thought that was bound to be the only surprise of the holiday. But Laura wasn't the only one I had strong feelings for, who was wandering about in Central Florida.

The holiday was very on/off obsession wise. Somedays I would be fine; having a good time and others Dr. Hesketh would be on my mind. But it wasn't only Dr. Hesketh who was on my mind, there was another doctor who I had a fleeting obsession with, Dr. Daxner, was a colleague and friend of Dr. Hesketh's. I knew they knew each other outside of work as well; I knew their sons were friends and went to the same school. I had an even less connection with her than I had with Dr. Hesketh. She was another doctor that had been at Forest since the beginning of time, and I managed to dig up medical records from years ago that showed that she examined me when I was a young child. I saw her for the first time in years when we was waiting in the waiting room at Forest when we were seeing Dr. Hesketh. I was challenging my mum at the time, pointing at anyone I could see and asking 'Who's that?'

'That's Dr. Daxner.' She replied. 'She's alright, I suppose. She's good at dealing with depression and stuff, my friends like her.'

Dr. Daxner also looked a lot different to Dr. Hesketh, she was a bit taller than Dr. Hesketh and had blonde hair. She was the same age as Dr. Hesketh though. My mum looked at me as if I was mad when I said I may be starting to have an obsession with Dr. Daxner too. 'You don't even know the woman!' She said. 'In my opinion, she's small, dumpy and plain, twice as unattractive as Dr. Hesketh.' My mum never said things like that to be horrible; she wasn't that kind of person. However, she somehow thought that her calling Dr. Daxner ugly was going to put me off her. I did a bit of research on Dr. Daxner, just as I had done with Dr. Hesketh. I found out she was widowed and had two teenage sons. Maybe I had an obsession with her as she had Facebook and Dr. Hesketh didn't. I knew immediately when I saw her profile that I could find out more information about her... and get some pictures.

The first week in Florida was fine; it was towards the end that everything started to go wrong. I was desperate to get on Dr. Daxner's profile to find out more about her; people seemed to put everything on Facebook these days! I also thought she might have some pictures of Dr. Hesketh. I knew it wasn't going to be as easy as getting onto Alfie's profile; Dr. Daxner wouldn't be anywhere near as vulnerable. I couldn't exactly pretend to be a long lost cousin or anything. I then had an idea- but it was risky. I felt instantly guilty after thinking about it; as I knew it was going to be pushing everyones patience to the maximum if they found out it was me. At first, I thought I could be Dr. Hesketh. I couldn't exactly put the awful photo of her on the beach as her picture, however I thought I could put the picture of Dr. Khan and Alfie. But then I figured, why don't I just pretend to be Dr. Khan? I knew where he lived, I knew his date of birth, I knew his place of birth. With my complete tunnel vision coming over me again; I created an "Amman Khan" profile. It did look completely believable; there would be no reason why anyone would think it wasn't him. As soon as Dr. Daxner accepted, I thought, I would deactivate the account so the record of the account would be gone from Dr. Daxner's profile just in case she questioned Dr. Khan. Facebook allowed you to deactivate it, but then log back into look at it again whenever. I added a few of his other doctor friends, including Dr. Richter, our family doctor. Mum wasn't to keen on Dr. Richter, stating that she was 'Good with medicine but not with people.' She also had said that 'her friends didn't like her.' Which was apparently a good reason to dislike someone.

I continued to write pained diary entries throughout the holiday; most of which were not just about Dr. Hesketh but my continual guilt about what I was doing, but the fact I didn't have any ability to control it. As soon as I thought of doing something; I had to do it. It wasn't just the tunnel vision that effected me, I also got this overpowering feeling inside of me, my head buzzes and the buzzing sometimes runs throughout my body. My heart beats fast, it's almost like an adrenalin rush. The rush and the buzzing only stops when I have done what my mind wants me too; then it's like a release after that, apart from feeling guilty.

I remember creating the facebook profile in one of the Disney parks; one of the new features for Disney world that year was that they had free wifi in the parks. It was handy, when you were waiting in queue lines for ages. As predicted, Dr. Daxner and Dr. Richter accepted the requests. I had a quick skim through, and apart from saving a few photos of Dr. Daxner to my phone, I couldn't really find anything of much interest. After the usual adrenalin rush, I was feeling particularly guilty- and scared, about being found out. I'm sure Dr. Khan on facebook was going to be a topic of the Forest Staff's lunch hour. They would probably find it incredibly creepy that someone who knew that much about Dr. Khan, as well as having photo's of him, would put a facebook profile up about him. But I suppose one of the positives was, they wouldn't think it was me in a million years. I told my mum after a while, as I was feeling that guilty about it. I felt bad at first as she had been looking forward to the holiday so much and I didn't want to ruin it for her. 'You did what?!' She asked, shocked.

'I made up a fake profile of Dr. Khan, and added Dr. Daxner and Dr. Richter too see if they had any photos of Dr. Hesketh.' But the mention of Dr. Richter, our family doctor that my mum and her friends disliked, sent her over the edge.

'DR. WHO?!' She shouted. 'Dr. Richter is a bitch who will stop at nothing to get you in jail after what you have done, do not fuck with Dr. Richter, she's evil.' I thought it was a slight exaggeration- I had seen Dr. Richter a couple of times myself over the years and she seemed fine. She also said she had a daughter with an anxiety disorder and a son with Asperger's Syndrome. I think where Dr. Richter was concerned, my mum was lead astray by her friends; some of whom were quite strange. 'Dr. Richter has probably got Asperger's herself.' My mum added, which was meant to be an insult. I think It took my mum a lot of time to calm down from that episode. I said I would deactivate the account; which I did. But I did go back on a few times too look at Dr. Daxner's profile. I also kept on searching for pictures of Dr. Hesketh. I found some in the end on Dr. Richter's profile. I remember flicking through the photos while I was in bed of an evening about to go to sleep. I came across a picture of about four women, none of them I recognized but one. It was strange; it was almost like I had become so obsessed with Dr. Hesketh and had been thinking about her so much that I had forgotten what she had looked like. When I thought about her I visualized her body shape and hair, but I couldn't remember her face. I knew I recognized the woman in the picture but I wasn't sure who it was. I had a slight inkling it was Dr. Hesketh but I double checked with my mum. She looked at me blankly when I asked her who the picture was of. 'It's Dr. Hesketh....' She said.

'Thought it was, but I was just checking... she looks different in real life.' I replied.

'Well, the effects of the photo have taken out her wrinkles and other middle-aged features hasn't it? Where did you find the pictures anyway? I thought you said you deactivated the Khan account?' She said, her voice suddenly turning panicky.

'I have,' I reassured her. 'I got this of the NHS website.'

My mum looked closer at the picture.

'err.. Hannah, she's got a glass of wine in her hand, I don't think they would put that on the National Health Service website....'

'It could be apple juice?' I suggested. 'No one's really going to question the girl about what was in her glass.'

'Just promise me you won't do anything stupid.'

'Yes, yes, I promise.'

I also found a picture of Dr. Hesketh, Alfie and her daughter Zoe. It was at Dr. Richter's birthday party, and it seemed to be an evening party where children were invited too as well, although there was no sign of Dr. Khan, or their youngest son Charlie. Dr. Hesketh was in the middle of Zoe and Alfie. She had her arms wrapped tightly around them. The three of them looked so blissfully happy. Although Zoe looked like her dad; tall with a dark skin tone she was dressed up like a mini Dr. Hesketh. This made me more obsessed- I looked at the picture a lot while we were away.

But there was something else that was too happen on that holiday- which sent me almost barmy.

A few days before we were due to leave America, we had a round of golf at one of Disney's miniature golf courses. It was fun, although I am Dyspraxic so golf wasn't my strong point. While I was waiting for my brother and sister to have their turns and putting; I decided to have a quick peek at Dr. Daxner's facebook, too see if she put anything else on there. As soon as I logged in however, a picture came up with the following caption: ' _Just having a game of golf, Joseph is only just winning!'_ I didn't think much of it, until I saw the picture that came with it, which was uploaded only a few minutes before. It was indeed, a picture of a golf course- but it was exactly the same golf course we was on. I then scrolled down to find out that she had posted other pictures earlier that day; of them arriving in the hotel.... The hotel directly next to ours. I think it made me violently jump when I had just processed what was happening- Dr. Daxner, was on the exact same golf course as we were...I quickly turned around; half expecting her to be standing there, club in one hand, golf ball in the other. She wasn't there, however. There was two parts of the golf course and by the looks of it she was on the other part of it. It was so surreal; thinking about the woman so much- not only to find out she was so close to me, yet I thought she was thousands of miles away. For the rest of the holiday, I was keeping a close lookout for her. 'Why do you keep on looking at people weirdly?' My brother Max asked one time.

'Someone's here that I know, that's all. Just trying to spot the girl.'

'Who?' He asked.

'Natasha the dentist.' I said, quickly.

'Oh she's well fit.. but why are you looking for her?'

'Because I had this fight with her one time, got a bit physical, you know. I'm not allowed to see her now, but I don't want her to come and start a fight with me. If you think she's that fit, do me and favour and keep an eye out for her too.' Of course it was all a lie- but I do sound quite convincing when I lie, so it was no wander that Max believed me. Luckily I never did bump into Dr. Daxner and before I knew it, I was back in the UK, landing into Gatwick airport a few days after I saw the picture of Dr. Daxner on the golf course. I was quite happy to be back home- I was concentrating on getting back to work- I was due to go back in the middle of August. I was also due to see Dr. Hesketh just afterward. But it wasn't to work out that smoothly.

About two weeks later, something else happened. My aunt and two young cousins who lived near Bristol came up to stay a few nights. It was August and the long summer holidays and I think my aunt was struggling to entertain them. This aunt of mine in particular also has Asperger Syndrome. Her eight year old son Freddie; my cousin had also just been diagnosed at the time. My aunt, was a very good mother, but I think sometimes struggled with Freddie's behaviour. She often asked for advise from my mum, who had so much experience in dealing with me. Freddie, along with his brother Oscar were country children and didn't have much experience of city life, so we planned to take them to London to the Natural History museum- as Freddie had a particular interest in dinosaurs. We were also accompanied by my brother Max and my sister Eva; neither of them had a massive interest in going but my mum forced them stating 'it was a family day out.' As usual, we travelled into London via the tube. We spent the day there; but it was only towards the end that it started to get bad. I don't know what made me do it; I remember it was sudden. We was waiting in a 45 minute queue for a dinosaur exhibition, which we were coursed into doing by Freddie and I think my aunt and mum agreed, only so he didn't have a meltdown in front of everyone. I think me, my brother and sister were moaning more than Freddie and Oscar were. I think I just got the urge; the clamminess in my head. With my brain foggy I had the usual voice in my head, telling me to contact Alfie. I had been having the urge on and off all day. I don't know why I as I was so distracted. Both Freddie, who was 8 and Oscar who was 6 had built up a bond with me over the years. I was always the one who used to play with them when they were younger. As brothers, Freddie and Oscar quarreled a lot. Throughout the day, I had Freddie pulling me one way and Oscar pulling me the other. I wanted to contact Alfie, But not as Nassiff, the voice was telling me to own up to Alfie. To tell him the truth....The fogginess and clamminess in my head- along with the buzzing feeling in my hands and feet took over my morals and I messaged Alfie. " _I ain't called Nassiff"'_I said. " _I am just some girl who's passionately in love with your mother. I would have her any day. I know she's married to your dad and shit, I'll never give up on Dr. Hesketh, one day she will be mine. You see Alfie, not too long ago I stepped into the Forest medical centre in quite an urgent situation, Your mother was the only person who has been nice to me in a long time- this is when I fell in love with her. Everything about her is so beautiful."_ When I had finished, I meant to press "send" but as I pressed down, the sensor on my phone picked up the picture button next to it, which gave you the option to send a photo with your message. It automatically came up with the pictures I had saved in my albums of Dr. Hesketh. Something clicked in my head then and before I knew it, I had clicked on the photo of Dr. Hesketh, Alfie and Zoe. As I clicked on it; the photo automatically sent. I immediately felt bad after sending him the messages, but I was more guilty about sending the photo. It must have obviously really scared him. By the time all this had processed, me and my family were leaving the museum and hopped on the tube to Leicester Square to get something to eat. It was a very stressful journey and I could feel me stress levels rising. Although it was only a few stops on the Piccadilly line, it was half past five, so the peak of rush hour for the London Commuters. Freddie, to was starting to feel the stress. Rush hour didn't bother me, as I was used to it, but it was bound to bother both Freddie and Oscar. Freddie had a big fear of the escalators. I doubted he had been on many before, especially one so big with so many people. My mum had taken Freddie for the day while my aunt took Oscar. She did this to give me aunt a break and to give her some time with Oscar, however as Freddie got more and more stressed she probably started to regret it. Freddie stood at the top of the escalator at South Kensington tube station shouting at the top of his voice 'I'm not doing it!' several times. I was standing directly behind him and my mum, who was trying to encourage him to get on the escalator. I was more stressed at looking behind me and seeing a massive crowd of people waiting to get on the escalator. 'Mum, hurry up.' I snapped. 'Have you seen how many people are waiting? There's going to be a fight in the minute, don't you know London?' It was true, my experience in travelling in rush hour had been people rushing all over the place, squeezing onto tubes that were already bursting with people, pushing people out of the way to get the last remaining seat. 'Here, let me.' I said, barging my mum out the way and holding Freddie's hand. 'Right, In one, two, three Freddie we will be getting on this escalator.'

'No, no, no.' He persisted.

'One, Two, Three.' I counted, grabbing him under his arms and lifting him onto the escalator.

'There you go, good boy.' I said as I did it. He screamed for a moment then stopped and laughed. It made me smile to, but once we had got on the ridiculously crowded tube, my stress came looming back again. I tried to act happy and that nothing was bothering me, as we sat in Pizza Hut. I kept my phone in my hand, constantly checking it too see any action on Alfie's part.

'Hannah, please can I play the dinosaur game on your phone,' Freddie begged as we waited for our food. I had downloaded a game on my phone that him and Oscar could play on the tube journey into London.

'I'm doing something now Freddie.' I replied.

Aggressively, he hit me. Not particularly hard, however it did irritate me slightly. 'Do not hit me Freddie, I wouldn't hit you.' I used the same tone of voice I did when I told the children off at work for hitting and biting each other.

My aunt shot him a hard look from the other side of the table, but my mum was more irritated with me for not giving my phone to him.

'Go on, let him play your game.' My mum said.

'Mum, I'm doing something.' I replied.

'Yeah- she is,' my brother Max interjected. 'She's talking to this kid called Alfie Khan.'

'You've been looking over my shoulder!' I exclaimed.

'Khan.... That's nothing to do with Dr. Hesketh is it?' My mum asked, her voice suddenly turning panicky.

'No! Honestly mother, how many Khan's are there in this world?'

'But isn't her son called Alfie? You told me before. I don't think there would be many children called Alfie Khan who you would have a particular interest in talking too Hannah.' She was too smart for me. She knew too well what I was like. It was an emotional journey home- me and my mum ended up having an argument in the middle of Leicester Square as onlookers looked at us strangely. The journey home was one big awkward silence. Freddie and Oscar were completely out of it after a busy day, Eva and Max were plugged into their Ipods, my mum sat there with her heads in her hand for most of the way home whilst my aunt sat there, probably not knowing what to think of it all. We had a "family meeting" the next day after my aunt and the boys had gone. Me and my mum and dad went to a coffee shop to talk things through. My mum and dad had been split for four years at this point and they still found it a struggle to get on. However, they put on a united front for this occasion, as it was quite a serious one. There was a couple of discussions that had to be had by this point. It was obvious that my obsession with Dr. Hesketh had got completely out of control. Things needed to be put into place before I got myself into serious trouble. There was of course, the discussion for a need to change doctors in the surgery, as although we had only seen Dr. Hesketh once about this issue, it was good practice to stay with the same doctor, especially if they had prescribed you medication. 'But there's no one else at that place.' My mum said to us both, 'It's going to be a struggle to find someone as kind as Dr. Hesketh and we really need someone kind. I was thinking about Dr. Daxner, but Hannah's got a thing going with her as well.'

'I pick the nice ones,' I said, simply. Which seemed to be true- although I seemed to have no control who I fell for, they usually seemed to be nice people.

My dad thought hard, but all he could come out with was 'What about Dr. Khan? He's a nice bloke.'

My mum rolled her eyes.

'Dad, you don't get it.' I said. 'We've just told you all of this stuff about Dr. Hesketh and you are suggesting we go and see her husband?'

No one really understood me, but men seemed to be more useless than women. The subject also arose in the meeting of actually telling Dr. Hesketh. My mum said that If it was her child she would want to know; but on the other hand she wanted to protect me and she didn't want me to get into trouble. One thing on my police record, even a warning could prevent me from ever working with children again. It was decided in the end that we would tell Dr. Hesketh. My mum was going to go in there literally sob her way through 'Everyone's a sucker for a sob story.' She said. But Dr. Hesketh didn't get to find out on this occasion as there were more stresses to come.

The week after that whole fiasco my medical certificate was due to run out and I was hoping to go back to work. I was missing work so much and i knew that this obsession I was having was so bad as I was at home all day. I knew once I got back into the routine of the long days, my obsession would soon hopefully disappear. However, a few days before I was due to see Dr. Hesketh again and about a week before my medical sick certificate ran out, I got an email from work. ' _Hi Hannah, until we get the correct information from your Doctor we cannot make your decision about your return to work.'_ I was devastated- I was so close to going back. I knew they had said when I left on sick leave that they wanted my full medical history, although both my mum and Dr. Hesketh thought that was unnecessary, I wandered if that was what they were after. 'It's fine,' My mum reassured. 'We'll go and see Dr. Hesketh and she'll get us a letter, then we can move on.'

Yet it wasn't to be that simple.

Added Complications

I was so excited to go and see Dr. Hesketh again. I hadn't seen her in a month and a half although I had spent plenty of time thinking about her! After the email from work, my mum decided not to tell Dr. Hesketh after all. She wanted me to get back to work as much as I did and she knew revealing what I had done to Dr. Hesketh would prevent me from doing so. Just like before; we had to wait ages for her. My heart beat hard for the duration of the wait- I was so nervous about seeing her again. Usually, the doctors would come out to the waiting room to call the patients, for whatever reason Dr. Hesketh called her patients in from the corridor. I was pleasantly surprised that her voice carried down the corridor into the busy waiting room. Whenever I heard her voice I felt a glimmer of hope that it would be me. It felt odd sitting opposite her. Her tone of voice was exactly the same as last time- full of empathy and kindness. I spent a lot of time studying her- her whole body but in particular her face. I found out at the time she was 47, however she looked slightly older, almost in her early 50's, but it didn't seem to bother me. We spoke to her about a lot of things, but mainly about the information that Fun Start wanted so badly. Dr. Hesketh made a suggestion that she sent them a letter saying that I was fit for work. We agreed. Dr. Hesketh finished the meeting with saying 'Lot's of people I know have anxiety, but don't worry, you'll come out the other side, I'll make sure you will.' She smiled at me- such a lovely smile, I completely ached for the kindness and empathy that she gave me. 'The whole...' Dr. Hesketh said, miming cutting her wrists, 'probably scared them a bit. But they should understand as well that you have mental health issues.' She then stopped suddenly and said, 'Is it ok if I call it that? Mental health issues?' She asked me rather nervously, as if I was going to sue her or something. She fiddled with her wedding ring as she asked me, which brought me to the attention of it. I wasn't one for wedding rings, but her one was nice. It looked incredibly expensive also, Dr. Khan must of spent a fortune on it, but I suppose as a doctor he could afford it. 'oh yes, that's fine!' my mum said, enthusiastically 'We've had a lot worse in the past haven't we Hannah?'

I left Dr. Hesketh's that evening feeling obsessive. I tried to put this aside and concentrate on getting back to work. But it just wasn't that easy.

Fun Start seemed to be getting more and more frustrated with my lack of medical records as time went on. By the end of August had come, the owner of Fun Start had emailed me to say she had send another letter to Dr. Hesketh, asking whether I was currently self harming and whether she thought I could do all my jobs on my job description. I hoped this was going to be the very last stage, but it was going to get worse. Oh- so worse. I figured that I was seeing Dr. Hesketh the week after, so I thought she might wait too see me to fill it out. It was another week of waiting but I knew I couldn't do much about it.

Obsessive-wise, my behaviour hadn't improved since I last saw Dr. Hesketh. I, again tried to get onto her son's facebook profile, as of course he had blocked and deleted his 'long lost cousin' Nassiff. I tried just about anything and everything. His grandmother, his sister, his aunt, his uncle, a random child from his school.... I wasn't sure whether he wasn't allowed on Facebook after what had happened with Nassiff or that Dr. Hesketh was carefully monitoring his friend requests and was asking the people if it was there accounts before Alfie accepted them, which was fair enough. Either way, Alfie wasn't having any of it. I don't know why I wanted to go on his profile so much, I just suppose he was the closest thing to Dr. Hesketh that I had. I was due to see Dr. Hesketh again three weeks later. The thought of seeing her face filled me with light and happiness.

We had to wait for even longer in the Forest Medical Centre waiting Dr. Hesketh than previous times. Usually if you had a pre-booked appointment the waiting time was less, but Dr. Hesketh seemed to have lots of patients waiting for her. A few even got aggressive and I could hear them shouting abuse at Dr. Hesketh about her time keeping as if it was actually her fault. The Forest Medical Centre gave a 10 minute appointment slot, which nearly every patient seemed to go over. When Dr. Hesketh finally called 'Hannah, please.' She sounded hot and flustered. I can remember that she looked lovely. She had a pink and white flowery top on, along with a beige skirt. As I sat opposite her; no amount of wrinkles or liver spots could change my opinion, she was absolutely beautiful. I thought of her as physically beautiful as she was so beautiful on the inside. I looked at her face and saw a face of pure kindness. As Dr. Hesketh spoke, however I noticed something different about her. She seemed to be very self-conscious. She was constantly pulling at her skirt to make it go down further. At any point that I diverted eye contact she pinned her legs together hard as if she thought me or my mum were going to attempt to look up her skirt. I thought then, that that was maybe the reason why she always called her patients in from the corridor instead of going into the waiting room to call them. One of my prominent questions to Dr. Hesketh was concerning the letter from Fun Start. However when I asked Dr. Hesketh, she couldn't seem to find It on her system. 'I'm sorry, Hannah, I have not got it.' I didn't even care after that, as her voice and the smile that accompanied it made me feel instantly better. When I got home later however, the warmness that I had received from Dr. Hesketh had gone and I was feeling furious with Fun Start. It was pretty obvious that it hadn't got lost in the post which was the response I got from Emma when I emailed her later that evening. She offered to send me the letter so I could print it out and give it to Dr. Hesketh herself. It sounded like a good idea, however I wasn't to see Dr. Hesketh again until the end of September. It was just going to be another few weeks of waiting. I was at my dad's that evening; I went to my mums one week and my dads the other. My mum was a lot more supportive than my dad and I don't think he quite understood my behaviour ever since he had split up with his girlfriend Lauren, he was trying hard to 'get back out there' and find another girlfriend. While he sat in the conservatory on the phone to a woman, I was upstairs in my room, in agony. I wanted Dr. Hesketh so much, yet I couldn't have her. The thought of her being at home with Dr. Khan and their children really hurt. I then had an urge. But it wasn't to contact Alfie like it usually was. I still had the "Amman Khan" account I had created whilst I was on holiday. I looked at it occasionally, to see if Dr. Daxner or Dr. Richter had added any new photos of Dr. Hesketh. However on this occasion, I didn't just want to look. I had an urge, to contact Dr. Richter. Too pretty much own up. I haven't a clue why Dr. Richter, it was just what I needed to do. I fought this urge hard, I took a sharp pencil and dragged it hard down my arm, creating red marks and eventually blood. I knew that I would be found out and be in serious trouble and my whole life and career would be over. However not even blood dripping could stop me and I logged onto the fake account and sent a message to Dr. Richter. Like the messages I had with Alfie, the messages I had with Dr. Richter I still have now so are word for word. " _Hi, I guess... just a quick note to say I ain't called Amman. If I was; I would be having beautiful sex with a beautiful woman right now. Yeah I'm sure you know the girl.... I saw her today I did, she was looking beaut as per. Just thought I'd make a fake profile of her hubz to see if you or any of your mates had pictures of Dr. Hesketh. Yeah, she's a beaut isn't she? Wish I was Amman right now. But I'll see her in a few weeks and everything will be better. I am in love with your mate Dr. Sarah Hesketh. I just had to let the world know."_ That was partially written in teenage slang, let me translate; _hubz_ means husband and _beaut_ means beautiful. After I sent the message, as predicted I felt a lot better. I didn't have as much guilt as I did after sending the message to Alfie, I didn't care much for Dr. Richter's feelings. I told my mum straight after, however. I'm not sure why, it had just become part of the routine; every time I had done something of that nature, I would tell my mum afterwards. I didn't phone her up, instead I took a picture of my arm and put a simple message. _'Couldn't help it. Messaged Dr. Richter.'_ My mum rung my dad straight away, however he was too busy on his mobile to his potential girlfriend that he didn't seem to be that bothered. My brother Max answered it. I could her Max telling my dad 'Mum needs too speak to you desperately.'

I could then hear my dad telling Max 'Tell the woman to stop screaming down the phone at you and wait for two minutes so I can finish this conversation.'

'She's crying, she said it's about Hannah. She said she's coming round to get Hannah.'

I went back to my mum's that evening. Even though she was stressed, she tried to be calm and understanding with me. I had told my mum that from the message that I sent Dr. Richter, Dr. Hesketh may of guessed it was me. My mum said that in the morning we would ring up Dr. Hesketh and make an appointment to go and see her that following day. 'I'm hoping she's duty doctor; but if not I'll ring up in the morning and say you had a mental breakdown and if we could come in and see her. It's not really a conversation for the phone.' She said. When I awoke the next morning, my mum had been up early and had rung Forest Medical Centre. 'I've rung the front reception this morning,' She explained, 'They said they've emailed Dr. Hesketh and it will come up on her computer when she's logged on.' All we could do is wait. I think we just sat in the living room in the morning waiting for the phone to ring, but It never rung. In slight desperation about the detreating subject; my mum rung up Forest Medical Centre in the early afternoon. She put the phone on loud speaker, but I was told not to say anything, it was only for the purpose that I could hear what the doctor was saying. My mum explained to the woman at the front desk that she had rung earlier but no one had got back too us. 'Hang on, Dr. Hesketh's just come back from her break I'll ring down to her room.'

We got put on hold whilst she tried Dr. Hesketh. 'She's not answering at the moment,' she said. 'Although it will appear that Dr. Hesketh has read the email that got sent to her this morning as it's coming up as she's read it.' This was confusing, why would she read it and not do anything about it? 'If you would like,' the receptionist offered, 'I can give your details to the duty doctor?'

My mum thought for a minute. 'Who's the duty doctor?' She asked.

'Dr. Richter.' She replied.

I couldn't help saying 'You're best friend.' Sarcastically as she said it.

My mum rolled her eyes. 'Can you try Dr. Hesketh again please?' She asked, ignoring the offer of Dr. Richter.

The receptionist tried again, this time with luck. 'I've just spoken to Dr. Hesketh, she's read your email but she can't do anything about it as she's doing admin this afternoon, which means she can't deal with patients.'

'So we can't speak to her?' My mum asked.

'No.'

'So my daughter is on the verge of suicide and I can't even speak to Dr. Hesketh? It's quite a personal matter.'

'Let me pass your details onto Dr. Richter-'

'Is there any appointments with anyone else later on today?' My mum perused.

At this point, the receptionist seemed to get that my mum had a slight problem with Dr. Richter. 'Is there an issue with Dr. Richter?' She asked.

'Don't get me wrong, she's very good with medicine but she's not the right person to see- I'm incredibly annoyed we can't see Dr. Hesketh-'

'You need to let me pass your phone onto Dr. Richter, you need to speak to the duty doctor.'

In the end, my mum agreed. 'Great, now I've got fucking Dr. Richter ringing me, that's really not what I wanted. We can't tell her, she won't understand. Maybe we should just leave it. I mean it's only Dr. Richter. It's not like it's her son anymore. Oh, I don't know what to do.' She said, putting her head in her hands.

'Mum, I think we should trust her. Remember that time we went to see her last year and she put me on those pills?'

'Not really, but go on.' She replied.

'She actually seemed alright, remember her son is autistic as well.'

'You see Hannah.' She said, 'Your behaviour isn't even normal for an autistic person. Yeah if it was something about communicating or senses then yeah, I might have a good old chat with her about it, but this isn't normal on anyone's books. I highly doubt her son does similar to what you do.'

Before I could answer however, the phone rang. 'Oh god, it looks like it's her already.' She said, picking up the phone. I didn't hear much of the phone call between my mum and Dr. Richter. My mum spoke about me self harming and said I got obsessed with people. She especially played on that part, as if Dr. Richter was suddenly going to catch on and accuse me of sending the message the day before. She didn't, however and gave my mum advise about the national autistic society and other things she already knew about. Normally you got invited into see the duty doctor, however Dr. Richter sympathetically said that she couldn't do much. The crisis mental health team, which I think my mum was aiming for to help me, only got called out, apparently if there was a threat of suicide. Honestly, my mum told Dr. Richter that I wasn't going to commit suicide but I think after she had just wished she had said so, so I could get some sped up help.

After that, it was decided, again that Dr. Hesketh and her crew weren't to find out. My mum was still holding out hope that I was going to get back to work soon enough and it would all be over; but it never seems to work out that simply.

Caught Out

I still thought a lot about Dr. Hesketh, and the added complications at work weren't helping matters. After I found out that the letter with the attached requests for Dr. Hesketh hadn't reached her, I was straight onto work to try and get them to re-send it, but I was worried. It was kind of getting to be obvious that fun start didn't want me back and I think they were trying to put obstacles in my way. In the end, I got them to send me the letter so I could print it out and hand it to Dr. Hesketh herself. The problem was, I wasn't due to see Dr. Hesketh again until the end of the month. I ended up marching to the front desk of Forest Medical Centre and asked her to give it to Dr. Hesketh asking if she could complete it ASAP. She looked at me oddly as I approached her. 'Well, I'll have to scan to too her. The scanner man comes in on a Thursday.' Considering this particular day was Friday, it meant I had to wait another week for some special man to come and scan it in. 'Can't you do it? Isn't that receptionists are supposed to do?' I suppose it was quite a rude thing to say, but it was quite in fact the truth. It was all just a big waste of time. She gave me a dirty look so I just left it at that.

Another week passed, as did another. I kept on nagging my mum to ring up the Forest Medical Centre to check, but she said there was no point as we were due to see Dr. Hesketh soon anyway. But the week before I was due to see Dr. Hesketh again, I got a pleasant surprise. I was on my own; as I usually was during the day. My mum worked a three-day in a week in a school, so usually got home around four. The phone rang as I was sitting there; which made me jump. My mum was expecting a call from my old school, St Max' about my brother's open evening. I was instructed to answer it and tell whoever it was to ring her mobile. However, when I answered and said hello, a familiar voice sounded from the phone. 'Hello, is that Hannah?'

Hang on, I knew that voice.

'Dr... Dr Hesketh?' My heart lit up.

'Yes, It's Dr. Hesketh from the Forest Medical Centre.' She said, as if there was any other Dr. Hesketh's I knew. 'I'm just ringing too say,' she continued, 'That I have received your letter and I thought I'd complete it over the phone.... Is your mum there... or not?' she asked, rather timidly. At times, I found that Dr. Hesketh came across as a little patronizing. I think that was part of why she was always sympathetic; as she just felt sorry for me and sometimes it came across as patronizing. I had predicted she may have wanted to speak to my mum, but I wandered why she wanted to speak to her and not me. I think she thought I was a little incapable of living life in general. She said she had read through all my therapy reports, most of which concluded that I was vulnerable and often needed my mum too speak on my behalf. 'No, she's not. She should be back from work soon, but I can talk to you it's really not a problem.' I could be two different people. The vulnerable young person with a number of mental health issues who ached for sympathy and affection from middle-aged women, or I could be the confident, caring person who was in charge of the safety of young children on a daily basis. I generally acted like the first person with Dr. Hesketh because I liked the way she spoke to me, even if it was patronizingly, it was sort of a sense of being cared for. 'Oh, ok. I just had a slight issue. On the letter I had received from the nursery it asked me if you were currently self-harming. And it shows me that on your medical records that your mum spoke to Dr. Richter about you self-harming. Obviously I can't tell fibs to employers.' So what was she saying? That she was going to tell fun start that I had self-harmed last week? They would have gone mad. 'Well,' I said, on a mission to defend myself, 'It asks if I am self-harming now, which I'm not.'

'Yes, but you did just a few weeks ago. I just feel like we owe something to the nursery and they need to know the truth, they are looking after children.' Even from Dr. Hesketh this made me incredibly angry and I was in no hurry to hide it. After the last 9 months of constant discrimination and bad treatment, no, I didn't owe anything to the nursery. So many things were going through my head, but the only thing I could come out with was 'I'm not going to hurt the children.' Whether she was implicating it or not, I didn't like anything being said of the kind. It was now my turn to be patronizing. 'The clue is in the word, self-harm, you don't harm others.'

'No, that's not what I'm saying.' She said and for the first time I sensed a hint of irritableness in her voice.

There was a silence for the moment then.

'Why don't we go through the questions that the nursery have sent me?' she suggested.

I agreed and we went through the questions that the nursery had asked Dr. Hesketh. To my relief, she answered positively to all the questions. 'I'll write this up on Thursday, that's my admin day. My assistant Lisa will be in charge of writing up the accompanying letter. I think your mum has her contact number.'

'I'm seeing you next week anyway.' I replied.

'Oh that's good, we can talk then.'

'I'll look forward to seeing you.' I said, which is an unusual thing for me to say. Normally someone says it too me and I reciprocate.

'Aww, you too Hannah.' My lovely Dr. Hesketh had come back.

I emailed work that day after I had spoke to Dr. Hesketh, they said I should come in next Wednesday morning and discuss my return to work. That was the day I was due to see Dr. Hesketh, but I wasn't due to see her until the afternoon so I was wandering, or more so worrying how I would get the letter off Dr. Hesketh before the appointment to give to Forest however I was reassured that Dr. Hesketh would ring back before that time saying she had completed the letter and that we could go and collect it. This was, of course my mum reassuring me. As I was so negative about everything, my mum spent quite a lot of time reassuring me.

My mum had to ring up Forest Medical Centre as Dr. Hesketh had not completed the letter by the Tuesday, the day before I was due to have the all important meeting with work. Finally, I thought, I was getting back to work. I was worried about whether the letter had even been completed. It had taken a month for Fun Start to send the letter and then for Dr. Hesketh to complete it; when realistically it could have been done in a few days. Luckily though, they had completed it and My mum ended up picking it up on her way back from work Tuesday night. As I read it when she got back, I noticed a few errors in the letter, which I assumed was written up by her secretary Lisa. The most prominent mistake was that she had written, 'I have attached a recent report of Hannah from her recent assessment from the private mental health team, overleaf.' For one, Dr. Hesketh had no right to be attaching reports that I hadn't even read myself. Work didn't need to know any of that. And for two there was nothing attached. I was confused why she would say she attached something when there was obviously nothing attached.

We ended up making another visit up to the Forest Medical Centre, that evening to try and get someone to re-type the letter. There would be no way Fun Start would accept that we had given them a letter saying something was attached when it obviously wasn't My mum was also annoyed at this point, by everything that had happened over the last few weeks and that Dr. Hesketh and her assistant couldn't seem to manage to draft up a simple letter between them. She flung open the door to reception so it hit the wall with a loud bang, which made the receptionists look at her oddly. 'Sorry,' she said, not really sounding it at all. She explained to the receptionist the situation and that I had a meeting with work at 9 the following morning so it was important it got sorted out now. 'Sorry,' she said, 'but all the secretary's have gone home so there's no one to do it.'

'Can't you do it?' I asked, resisting to repeat the line 'isn't that what receptionists are for?'

'Let me go down and speak to Dr. Hesketh.' She said and whilst we praised her for being so helpful, she got up and headed down to Dr. Hesketh's room. My body suddenly lit up at the thought of seeing Dr. Hesketh again. I was for sure she would come out of her room and talk to us, and surely enough the familiar face of Dr. Hesketh followed the secretary up the corridor. 'Would you like to come with me Lisa.' She asked my mum, beckoning her into a corner. A bit miffed she addressed my mum and not me, I followed Dr. Hesketh into a corner.

'Sorry,' she apologized, 'I told Lisa to change that before she went home, I typed it then realized it really wasn't the right thing to put so I asked Lisa to change it. If you want I can cross it out?'

Dr. Hesketh, for sure was an intelligent woman, however the suggestion of crossing it out was stupid. I knew the nursery would react massively if they saw a massive line through a line in the letter which would confirm my fitness for work. 'I mean, I could really cross it out... and sign it?' Dr. Hesketh suggested, as if that would make it better. As my mum answered however, I heard the voice of the receptionist say 'There you are Dr. Khan, where have you been hiding?' At the mention of Dr. Khan I turned round on the spot. Surely enough, Dr. Khan was approaching the reception area near to where we were standing. He looked quite chilled, carrying a mug of tea as he did. This is the only time I had seen Dr. Khan in person since I had the obsession with Dr. Hesketh. He looked different to the only picture I had of him, he had grown out his hair slightly so it stuck up at all angles. He seemed to have got more bigger round the waist also. His dark skin stood out against his grey hair. When he law me looking quizzically at him, he gave me a smile. It was such a warm smile, that it automatically made me smile back. His smile was so friendly, which reminded me of my mum saying that him and Dr. Hesketh were the nicest doctors at the Forest medical centre. However my mood quickly changed as we bid goodbye to Dr. Hesketh (we had agreed we would pick up the letter early the next morning before the meeting) and got in the car to go home. 'Talk about the brains of Britain.' My mum said, 'it's taken two weeks for the two of them to draft up the letter and they didn't even do it right.'

But I had other things on my mind. 'Did you see him?' I asked quietly.

'Who?' She replied.

'Dr. flipping Khan, that's who. Did you not see him? Walking past us looking a complete dick carrying a cup of tea. He's well fat, he's been shoveling down those pork pies.'

'Hannah!'-my mum started.

'He smiled at me as well, probably a freaky turn on for him that me and you were huddled up in a corner with his wife, he'll probably be having some freaky sexual fantasy of us having a threesome.'

'Usually people smile at you because they are being friendly.'

But I was slowly detreating. 'I don't care. He lives with her. He gets to cuddle her. He gets to sleep next to her every night. He gets to kiss her. He gets to see her without clothes on.' I felt awful- I had so much hatred for Dr. Khan I got hysterical. 'HE EVEN GETS TO MAKE LOVE TO HER! IT SHOULD BE ME! IT SHOULD BE ME! OH, WHY CAN'T IT BE ME?' I shouted kicking the seat in front of me.

'Hannah! Pull yourself together! Dr. Hesketh is a small, middle-aged hunchback, get over yourself! In my personal opinion, Khan can keep her! Just think, by next week you will be back to work and Dr. Hesketh won't come across your mind again.' Although my mum's hunchback comments didn't really help, I knew she was right, I had to pull myself together- tomorrow was my chance to go back to work. For once, I actually felt confident- which I never really did. I felt confident that I was going

to be back to work in no time. But it never seems to go my way. It all went wrong- so terribly wrong.

It was a stressful morning the following day. I had to go to Forest on my way to my meeting with fun start to pick the letter Dr. Hesketh and Lisa couldn't draft between them. I had a very short time frame; I was going to struggle after going to collect the letter to get into work on time. The picking up of the letter went very smoothly; as Dr. Hesketh promised, the letter was waiting for us at the reception desk. I then had to hop on the London Underground for a few stops to get to my destination. My heart was beating fast as I left the station heading towards work; I was so hoping to finally go back. When I got there, the owner and the manager called me into the office. The letter with the attached job description from Dr. Hesketh was in an envelope which I let the owner open. She read it through several times and with a kind of disgusted look on her face she said to the manager 'This is _not_ what we asked for.'

'You wrote to my doctor telling her to write a letter back answering the questions you asked; which she has.'

'We need your full medical history, we've had this conversation. I cannot have you back in this building until I have your full medical history.'

I sat in silence, not really knowing what to say. 'Dr. Hesketh doesn't want to give my medical history.' I said, quietly which was true.

'I don't care.' Laura said, flatly. 'It's up to you. We work with children.' She said, as if I didn't already know. 'And this as well,' she continued; pointing to something Dr. Hesketh wrote. " _Hannah is not currently self-harming but I am monitoring it_ " What does that even mean?' I was worried about that part. Dr. Hesketh said she had to put that as I had self-harmed recently. Although another employer wouldn't think too much about it, I knew that Laura would.

'She's just trying to cover her own back.' I said, repeating what my mum had said.

She looked at me as if I was stupid. 'What do you think we're trying to do? The exact same!'

But if Dr. Hesketh was covering her back and Fun Start were covering theirs, then how was I ever going to get anywhere? I think both parties knew, that I was no way a threat to the children, but none of whom were willing to back down.

'Let me give you a letter,' Laura suggested, 'give it to your doctor. I'm going to write down exactly what she needs to give us.' She then ordered the manager to type it up. 'I've got a meeting here right now, why don't you play with the children whilst your waiting for Emma to type the letter up?' So I wasn't that much of a threat then. I exited the office where the staff members crowded me. 'When you coming back?' one of them asked.

My heart dropped- I had rehearsed to tell them that I was coming back more or less straight away. 'Hopefully soon.' I replied.

I looked around. The nursery had recently had an extension, it was a hard six months of restricted access to the garden and constant building work going on, however by the looks of the finished construction it was worth it. I had been gone from the nursery for three months by this point and I was for sure that the younger children wouldn't remember me. I went over to a group of children playing in the construction area. 'Hello, Olivia.' I said to one of the girls. I know you weren't meant to have favourites, but Olivia was one of mine. 'Hello, Hannah.' She said, as if I had just popped to the toilet, not been away for three months. All the nerves and anxiety I had suddenly went and I happily sat with the children and helped them build their 'car' with the construction pieces. I missed the children so much, I wanted to give them all a hug- although I knew the owner was in the office and had her eye on me and I wasn't sure how close I was allowed to get them anymore. The children crowded me, some remembered me and some looked at me quizzically as if they had remembered me from a distant memory. One girl's jaw dropped when she saw me. Little Grace was such a lovely girl too look after. She, however was very shy and looked almost scared to approach me when she saw me. I beckoned her over and put one of my arms around her. 'Do you remember me?' I asked.

She nodded.

'What's my name then?'

'Hannah.' She said quietly. I couldn't stop myself after that, I was so happy to be back with the children, I honestly didn't care what management thought, I scooped Grace up and put her on my lap. I must have been in the children's play room for at least an hour before the owner called me back in. 'this is a letter.' She said, handing it too me. 'Give it to your doctor.'

'I'm seeing her this afternoon.' I said. 'I'll give it to her then.'

I left the nursery feeling downhearted- I thought the battle was over, but it was only just beginning.

Dr. Hesketh was relatively on time later that afternoon, although we still had about five minutes to wait in the waiting room. I was in quite a hyper state and was shouting about more or less every doctor who came into the waiting room to call in their patients. 'Oh look, that's your best mate.' I said to my mum pointing at Dr. Richter. I think I said it so loud Dr. Richter actually looked in my direction. I also commented 'Oh look, it's my lover.' When I saw Dr. Daxner, although for obvious reasons I kept quieter when I said that. As my mum was about to shush me about expressing my feelings for Dr. Daxner when her phone rang.

'Don't take it,' I said, 'Dr. Hesketh will be calling us in soon.'

'It's your brother, I have to take it.' She said, getting up to speak to my brother Max in the same corner that we stood in with Dr. Hesketh the day before. As predicted, Dr. Hesketh called my name. 'Mum.' I hissed, trying not to cause a scene. In the end, I went down the corridor on my own to see Dr. Hesketh's smiling face waiting at the bottom of it. 'My mum's coming, she's somewhere down there.' I said, signaling down to the waiting room.

'Sorry.' My mum said, bounding down the corridor a few moments later. 'I've got my teenage son on the phone shouting at me. Teenagers, eh?'

'Oh, Yes.' Dr. Hesketh agreed.

'So demanding.' My mum said, shaking her head at the whole situation.

'Is that Max?' she asked, rather fondly. 'I remember him from when he was a baby.' I was surprised she remembered my mum after all the years, but it was even more odd that she remembered Max. With a surgery of 19,000 patients, she must see so many different people. I'm sure Max wasn't that memorable. For sure, if Dr. Hesketh remembered my brother from over 14 years ago, she wasn't going to be forgetting me too easily. I saw opposite Dr. Hesketh as I usually did. I saw that she had replaced the picture of her two sons that she had on her desk back in June, with a picture of all three of her children. They looked like they were somewhere hot, Alfie stood out against his brother and sister. His brother and sister were naturally darker than him and had tanned a lot in the sun. Alfie had his mothers skin tone, which was still pale white in the photo, even though they were obviously in a hot place. They all looked happy and loving towards each other, Dr. Hesketh's youngest son Charlie sat between his brother and sister. Alfie and Zoe happily had their arms around Charlie. With Dr. Hesketh and Dr.Khan added to the picture, they looked the perfect family.

I admired this picture before turning back to Dr. Hesketh. She looked incredibly flustered and tired. I studied her face closely- she looked like she had tried to make an effort and apply make up in the morning, but by this time it had smudged, one eye lid had lots more eye shadow on it than the other. We spoke to Dr. Hesketh about the meeting I had with work. As she spoke, I found it quite hard to possess self control. Everything about her I found so attractive. She had a lovely voice also, even when she was talking normally. She had quite a posh voice, with a hint of a northern accent. I studied every part of her body as I sat there. Yes, like Daniel aspects of the obsession were sexual. I don't know why, in the past year or so I have developed obsessions with more of a sexual aspect. At school, when I was obsessed with the teachers, I felt like the sexual part of the obsession was minimal. It might be due to sexual maturity; usually teenagers start becoming interested in sex at the age of 11 or 12- the peak of puberty. However, I was different. I went through school not caring about sex or relationships in the process. In all truth and honesty, I only started to give the subject a bit of interest when I was 18, more or less whilst I was having the obsession with Daniel. Even though I caught up with my peers and started to have a slight interest in it, I wasn't at their level in all areas. Not many 19 year olds would even have a second thought about a middle aged woman. In exception for Daniel, I've never found anyone attractive my own age. Even people I see on the tube or out walking that I think are just generally attractive without having any proper feelings for them seem to be a lot older. I was also struggling with my sexuality. I suppose most reading this would class me as 'bisexual'. Oddly enough, I view myself more straight than gay. Even though I seem to cling onto these women, I generally think myself as straight. I also had the crush on Amy, but I did wander to myself whether that was because I really really liked her and not loved her. I spent quite a lot of my time trying to figure my feelings out but I never come to a conclusion. I usually sit on the tube, admiring the men who sit in front of me, especially if it's rush hour and they all look smart their work suits. I don't deny I enjoy it, especially if they are attractive, however, I don't feel the same way about women. I don't pass them on the street and think that they're attractive, I usually don't give them a second glance. I've always pictured myself being with a man, marrying and having children as you do, however I wasn't sure that that was almost what I was 'programmed' to think. Even though no one specifically told me to be straight, I didn't know gay people even existed till I was 12 and started to have the obsession with Ms. Baker. Before then, I thought everyone married someone of a different sex. And even after I discovered they existed, I never knew any. I've come to class myself as "Straight with strong lesbian tendencies." I especially felt the lesbian tendencies come out as I sat opposite Dr. Hesketh. I so wanted to touch her, I almost found my arm out-stretching a couple of times. I sat there and shook. I didn't look at her. My mum did a lot of talking and Dr. Hesketh focused on her. I only came back down to the earth when I remembered something I had to ask Dr. Hesketh. 'Can I have a copy of that report you were going to give Fun Start?'

'Of course.' She said and printed it off for me. It was a recent assessment that I had had from a psychologist at a well known private mental hospital. My dad had private medical insurance so we decided to try that whilst we waited for my name to slowly go up the NHS list. Instead of giving it too me however, Dr. Hesketh read it out loud. I don't know why; maybe she was just making a point. She read It slowly as if she thought I was half deaf and half retarded. Words like 'OCD' and 'CBT' she read out painfully slowly and sounded them out. She even asked after she had read them if I knew what they stood for. I didn't get annoyed, it was quite humours watching her be so patronizing, she obviously didn't have a clue how able I was. She read out the whole report, slowing up when it came to the most important part of the report. ' _Hannah has obsessions with people and she tries to find information about them in an underhand way, which she then feels bad about.'_ At this point, after she read that bit out loud, if she didn't think it was me who sent the messages then she was quite dim. It was so obviously me, however she couldn't exactly go accusing people, it could put her job in trouble if she did. After she had finished reading it, my mum said, 'Thanks so much for not giving that to Hannah's work, they didn't need to know.'

'Yeah, especially about the part where I stalk people.' Dr. Hesketh was looking down at the paper at this point, but when she heard that she looked straight up at me quickly. I didn't see the facial expression as I quickly looked away.

We was in with Dr. Hesketh for way over our 10 minute slot, when we got up to leave Dr. Hesketh bid my mum goodbye. She then said 'Take care Hannah. Take care, yes?' as she said it, she reached out her hand and gently rubbed my arm. She looked at me sympathetically, her tone of voice almost sounding worried. My stomach jumped at her touch. I smiled at her and left her office. I couldn't contain myself as we left Forest, I was literally jumping up and down shouting 'Dr. Hesketh touched me! She so wants me! she'll be divorcing Khan tomorrow!' But my excitement for Dr. Hesketh was short lived, as that's the last time I spoke to her. In my mums words, it all went 'tits up' from there.

As predicted, I felt awful when I got home that evening after I saw Dr. Hesketh. I don't know if I was more annoyed at Fun Start, or more obsessed with Dr. Hesketh. But both combined got me in a state. When I'm obsessed, there's this clamminess in my head. I go into a depressive state, I don't talk to anyone, my heart beats fast, I start to get a buzz in my head. With all these feelings, I had an urge. For some strange reason, I wanted Dr. Hesketh to find out it was me. I think I was hoping that if they found out I wouldn't be able to see her anymore. Even though I loved seeing her, it was pretty much the highlight of my life at the time, I knew everytime I saw her it was feeding the obsession. Just as I did on the last time I saw Dr. Hesketh, I had an urge. And just like the last time, I took it out on Dr. Richter. " _She's my beautiful girl! I saw her today I did, I saw you too but you weren't the main attraction. She looked a little cutie today in her purple cardie. Every time I look at her, I fall in love with her. She probably knows who I am, she see's this girl every three weeks or so who obsesses with people and has mental health issues.'_ And with that message, I attached one of my pictures I had of Dr. Hesketh. I didn't resist the urge like I had done earlier in the month- I was so on the verge of giving up I didn't care whether I was arrested or put in some mental hospital. Maybe, I thought, if I was to get in some trouble I might actually get some more help. I was still on the NHS waiting list for therapy and had been for six months prior. I was still on anti-depressants although they obviously weren't geared towards obsessive behaviour. There wasn't much more I could give myself.

The Aftermath

All stayed quiet until the next afternoon. My mum came home from work at 4.15. She sat down on the sofa opposite me and said 'The Forest Medical Centre know.'

'They know?' I asked.

'About all the messages. I had a call from the practice manager, Diane at lunchtime. We've got to go in and see them now.'

My heart was beating as we got in the car and made the five minute journey to the Forest Medical Centre. At first, my mum said, 'Keep quiet about the boy, don't say anything unless you get asked, obviously don't lie.'

It was odd stepping into the surgery. It was a Thursday and I knew Dr. Hesketh worked on that day, as did Dr. Khan. 'Hi, we're here too see Diane, the practice manager.' My mum said to the woman at the front desk. 'Sure, come through.' She said, beckoning us behind the desk to sign a book. Diane stood in the doorway to her office and watched us as we did. I didn't look at her, I looked at the floor. I knew I was in big trouble so I didn't want to look at her. When I did glance up at her, however, she smiled at me. It made me feel a bit more at ease as we sat down in her office. She seemed quite relaxed and calm, despite the situation being so serious. 'Hannah, have you tried to contact anyone from the surgery?' Diane started.

I shook my head quickly, but then looked at my mum for support.

'You just need to tell her now Hannah.' My mum said. 'Just tell her everything.' I could see tears welling in her eyes as she spoke.

Diane then rephrased her question. 'Have you pretended to be anyone from the surgery?'

I nodded, slowly.

'Who?' she asked.

I stayed silent for a while, before saying slowly 'Dr. Khan.'

Diane nodded. 'Cast your mind way back Hannah, did you do anything else.'

'Everything strange that happened was probably me.' I admitted.

'Could you elaborate?' Diane asked.

I loosely told her about contacting Dr. Hesketh's son. I then explained that I get urges and I couldn't control myself. She seemed quite good about it, however there was still the seriousness in the situation, especially surrounding Alfie. 'I just want you to know how it's been for the other side. I think it's important that you know.' Diane said. 'It's been a very emotional journey for Dr. Hesketh. And Dr. Khan' she added, tentatively as if she thought Dr. Khan was going to be a sensitive subject. 'They've had sleepless nights over it. They even spoke to the police. At first, they thought it was a pedophile after their son.' I got a stab of guilt as I had images in my head of Dr. Hesketh tossing and turning in her bed, unable to sleep at the thought of some pedophile was after her son. 'As you probably know, Dr. Hesketh and Dr. Khan don't use Facebook so it was all very scary for them. You were sending and cropping pictures of her and her children about the place and no one knew where you had got them from.'

'I got them from Dr. Richter's profile.' I said, quietly.

'The thing is Hannah, he believed everything you told him. Dr. Hesketh's son is not very old at all. He hasn't been on Facebook for very long, he went on to contact his relatives.'

My mum was sobbing into her hands at this point. 'I'm sorry.' She said to Diane. 'I just thought Hannah would get into trouble. She has worked so hard and been through so much, I just wanted to get her back to work. I did try and come in a few times but barriers were put in the way. I just hoped the boy was street-wise and some teenagers don't even talk to their parents.'

'He's not street-wise, he's really not.' Diane replied. She then left the room to get a box of tissues. 'Why are you crying?' I snapped at my mum as Diane left the room. 'She's seems ok about it. At least she hasn't called the police.'

'Sorry.' My mum apologized to Diane again. 'I've had no one to talk to about this, the last three months I've been so alone. Well, too be honest I've been alone with Hannah for years. Everyone gives up on her easily, everyone misunderstands her, I've been battling so much with everyone since she was 12, I've nearly given myself a nervous breakdown. No one's ever been on my side. It's always been us, pretty much battling the world.'

I think Diane softened towards us as my mum explained everything that had happened at school and now work. As my mum spoke, I tried to summon up some intelligent words to say, but all I could come out with was 'Please tell Dr. Hesketh I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to cause so much an impact.'

Diane smiled. 'I think when she found out it was you, she realized you didn't mean it nastily. It's a shame, as Dr. Hesketh said that she felt she had built up a good relationship with you.' She then stopped quickly before changing her words, 'a doctor-patient relationship. And with you Lisa, I know you've known her for years.'

'I'll guess we will have to look at changing surgeries.' My mum said to me.

'Oh don't' leave us!' Diane said, shocked we had suggested such a thing. 'You can just see a different GP that's all.'

'Who do you recommend?' I asked. 'Who are the nice ones?'

'Oh no!' My mum said quickly 'we don't want the nice ones! We don't want another obsession Hannah.'

'Okay.' I asked, flatly. 'who are the horrible ones?'

In the end we made an agreement we would come back to Forest, to see one of two doctors. Two men, who were known for being quiet serious. One of whom I saw the year before when I had the obsession with Daniel in desperation for some help.

That evening, after we got back, I seemed to come out of my trance. I felt such guilt whenever I though about what I done to Alfie; I even broke down and cried. What kind of a person was I? I was such a campaigner of children's rights, however I was one of the people I was campaigning against. It was the worst thing I have ever done. I will be guilt ridden for years. 'I don't understand a lot of things.' I told my mum. 'I don't understand love or relationships of all kinds. However what I do understand, yet obviously had not experienced is how much a mother loves her child.' I had tears streaming down my face as I said it. 'Dr. Hesketh must love Alfie so much and she must have been so scared.' Honestly, it's hard to write down.

'Maybe you want what she's got,' my mum suggested later that evening. 'That's why you're obsessed with her. The partner, the children, the good job.'

She had some truth. 'Or maybe...' I snapped back, 'I just envy her family a little bit, you know. They're perfect. For one, Dr. Hesketh sends her children to a top private school, not like you, you sent me to some shitty comprehensive. Dr. Hesketh has a nice home with 6 bedrooms, I have to live in this shitty council house and share a room with my stupid annoying sister. And the last, very important thing Is that Dr. Hesketh can manage to keep her marriage under wraps. UNLIKE YOU. Dr. Hesketh didn't desert her husband and take her children to live in a council house while they were chucked around to different houses every weekend. Dr. Hesketh's children have a nice relationship to look up to, they have stability. I wish, after I go through all of this that I would have a nice relationship to look up to, a steady one. BECAUSE YOU KNOW, I DON'T. No wander I'm so messed up, do you think you leaving my dad at one of the most vulnerable times was the best for me? Let alone what impact it made on Eva and Max. Do you even care? OVER HALF OF THE POPULATION CAN MAKE THEIR MARRIAGES WORK SO WHY COULDN'T YOU? WHY IS IT THAT ALL MY FRIENDS SEEM TO HAVE PARENTS WHO ARE STILL TOGETHER AND I DON'T? WHY IS IT THAT I HAVE ALL THESE MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES AND NO ONE ELSE MY AGE SEEEMS TO? WHY IS IT THAT A SMALL PROPORTIAN OF GIRLS HAVE ASPERGER SYNDROME. WHY ME? WHY ME?' I honestly don't think she knew what to say to it. I had just said so much on such a short period of time, that I'm sure her mind was racing, as was mind.

Unfortunately that was not to end for me and Dr. Hesketh. It was more or less the end for her, but not for me. Although I was still obsessed with her, things went quiet for a few months. I did attempt to do it once or twice more, but it wasn't as complicated as the Nassiff thing. I literally made up a few fake accounts and tried to add Alfie although of course it didn't work. The few times that that did happen, mum rung up Diane and told her straight away. Diane had seemed to of softened towards us since she had me and my mum in for the meeting. I think she almost felt sorry for us, especially for my mum I think. The few times she rung Diane she was either close to tears or in tears. I think the main thing that worried my mum and Diane was the contact I had with Alfie. Even if I did contact him because I liked his mother; in black and white it was still bad. I was still harassing a vulnerable child. My mum and even Diane knew that I was no serious threat to anyone; let alone a child. However if anything of what happened got to the police in any way, I would have on my police record that I had an offence against a child. My dreams of being a teacher, working with teenagers with mental health issues and adopting and fostering children would be out of the window. My whole future was children based. Luckily nothing got to the police. My police record and my DBS (criminal Record check) are still completely clear.

Although things with Dr. Hesketh calmed down, I hadn't. I was on a strong dose of anti-depressants at the time but had stopped taking them (without my mum's knowledge) at the beginning of October. I know what it sounds like. I wasn't very well at the time, why would I stop taking my pills? The truth was; I was comforted by the obsession with Dr. Hesketh. Although the obsession had many bad points, at that point in my life, Dr. Hesketh was the only comforting thing I had. If I didn't have the comforting thoughts about her, I would be empty. There was of course a downside to this theory. I got so incredibly ill. More than I had ever been before. I constantly looked in an ill state; I always looked pale, I didn't eat, wash or change my clothes. I had quite a low weight before all of this happened. I am 5"9 and was just over 8 stone. At this point however, I had lost over a stone and was quite dangerously underweight. The more ill I got, the more obsessed I got with Dr. Hesketh.

By October, I had been waiting for a therapy appointment from the NHS for over a year. I first went to get referred by my GP when I was having an obsession with Daniel last summer. I had got assessed by a psychologist earlier this year and even by October I was still waiting for an appointment. After we had the meeting with Diane, she contacted the NHS about the urgency of me having immediate therapy. I was surprised they listened to Diane and my name got pulled to the front of the list. _Finally,_ I thought, _I was getting help._ I had my first appointment with a young, female psychologist. I really liked her at first; although my mum was rather miffed as she was a trainee still at university. 'We've waited for over a year and they give you a sodden trainee.' It wouldn't of been so bad that she was a trainee if my problems with more simple. However, they were so incredibly complicated. This psychologist, Answa obviously had no clue about Asperger Syndrome. The questions she asked me were abstract and had no meaning. A common question such as _how do you feel?_ Just confused me. How did I feel about what? She also often asked me what sort of therapy I would like. How am I supposed to know that? I needed someone to tell me what I needed. After a few weeks I started to fell less and less confident about going. 'You have to keep at it Hannah.' My mum said. 'Otherwise you will be chucked out of the system and will have to wait for a psychologist.' I knew that that was true and I didn't have much faith in the NHS, however there was no point in me going if it wasn't helping. I don't think Answa understood my obsession very well and she asked me questions that were both personal and in my opinion had nothing to do with the situation. She seemed to sexualize the obsession more so than it was. She asked me incredibly personal questions such as 'Does Dr. Hesketh arouse you?' and 'Do you have any sexual fantasies about her?' None of which I answered. Partly because it was none of her business and partly because I didn't know myself. She even went as far as asking me how I deal with my 'sexual frustrations.' I don't even know where she got the phrase from as I had never said anything of the sort. I looked at her as she asked me. She then gave me a list of things people did to deal with their 'sexual frustrations.' Things such as masturbating or watching porn. I, of course didn't answer. This had nothing to do with anything and I didn't have any idea why she wanted to know. I started to feel uncomfortable sitting in her presence. In the end I told Answa the truth. She said that she would have a meeting with her colleagues and see what they said. She did warn me, however that there would be a wait time if I wanted to see a psychologist. She gave me and my mum a date where we could have a meeting with someone with a mental health team to put in a care plan for me. But apart from that, we had no help. We just had to wait. And yes, it did get worse.

It was the end of November where it all went downhill. I had just been out with Rebecca, my friend from Fun start. She too had moved on and was now working as a nanny. I saw her every few weeks or so, we went for a meal or went out for a drink. Whenever I was with Rebecca I felt more than normal. I chatted and laughed with her. I even chatted and laughed with the young waiter that always served us. However when I got home on this particular night, it was a different story. I was completely fine; it took only a few seconds for me to completely change. It was quite late; about 10:15 at night. I often did searches on the internet on Dr. Hesketh, for no reason really, I was usually just bored. On this particular evening when I searched her however, I found something different. Dr. Khan had made a housing extension application on our local council's website. I have no idea why; but the application form that Dr. Khan originally gave into the council for his housing extension was on the council's website. It didn't say much; it just said that he was asking the council for planning permission on some porch extension. It did, however have his phone number on the application form. I tried to work this out in my head although my head was buzzing. If I rung this number; I could speak to Dr. Hesketh. My heart was beating, my pulse racing. Quietly, so not to draw attention to myself, I lent down beside me to take the landline telephone off it's hook. I sneaked past my mum and my sister and went up to the bathroom. I shut the bathroom door and rung the number. I wasn't sure whether they were going to answer, it was quite late after all. It rung for ages and I was about to hang up until a voice answered. It was such a warm voice; however it wasn't female. Dr. Khan answered the phone in a happy tone of voice, quite upbeat for so late at night. I was so overwhelmed that I quickly hung up on him. After that, it all changed. My mum predictably went mad when I told her. 'That's going too far! You are invading their privacy! First you stalk their innocent vulnerable child, then you go messaging weird messages to her work colleagues and then you go ringing them up! Poor Dr. Hesketh. She doesn't deserve it and you know that Hannah.'

'They might not know it's me.' I replied.

'Of course they will! They will trace the number and recognize the part of the number. They will think to themselves; _who do we know who lives in that area?_ I really don't know where to go from here. I'm on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. I want to leave. I want to leave and never come back. There's only so much a human can cope with.'

This was when I decided. This was when I thought I was going to kill myself. I was an awful person. I scared Ms. Baker and her family, I scared Mrs. Young, I scared Daniel and now I've scared Dr. Hesketh and her family. I didn't feel like this kind of person; but I knew that it was the person I was displaying. Inside, I felt like a nice, confident and caring person. That was the person I genuinely knew I was, however I seemed to have trouble expressing that person. What I done to Alfie and Dr. Hesketh was more than I could cope with. The fact that I was so close to getting something on my criminal record that would completely ruin my future was more than I could cope with. Fun Start had let me down and there was no way I could go back there. I was jobless, depressed and nowhere near getting help. If I had had therapy months ago I'm sure this wouldn't have happened. I also felt bad on my mum. If anything happened to her, I would have no one. I would still have my dad, but I was spending less and less time with him as he didn't understand in the slightest and I was fed up of trying to make him understand. This was it. I couldn't live like this anymore. I had hurt too many people. I didn't want to carry on like this. I was never going to get better; I will always be like this and if help is this minimal then one day I am going to loose all self-control and get into a serious situation. It was only going to get worse.

I think my mum first thought I was attention seeking after the phone-call fiasco when I said I wanted to overdose. But as the evening got into the early hours of the morning, she started to realize that my threats were genuine. 'You know I would never leave you Hannah.' She said. 'I just said that because I didn't know what else to do. Over the past 6 years I've spent every breath trying to get you help. I feel like a failure as nothing's worked.' I reassured her that my decision was nothing to do with her. In the end she called the Crisis mental health team. The Crisis Mental Health Team were pretty much as you read it; to help if there was a Crisis. I've had them called out on me before, when I was 12. My mum explained that someone might come out to see us and help us. There was no such luck, the woman on the other end of the phone literally said 'Keep her safe and ring up your community mental health team in the morning.' I didn't sleep much that night, I stayed up late with my mum and we watched films and I went to bed incredibly late. I slept in for a while in the morning. My mum got up however and phoned the mental health team. Once I got up and joined her, she looked fed up. 'I've been on the phone for hours.' She explained. 'I've been passed from person to person and in the end the last person I spoke to said to ring up Crisis! Apparently someone local is going to ring us back. But they said if it gets bad go to A&E*.'

Eventually someone did ring us back that afternoon, however it was only Answa. 'she wants to speak to you.' My mum hissed, trying to hand the phone to me.

'I don't want to talk to her.' I replied. 'Tell her if she hadn't been so shit in the first place this probably wouldn't of happened.'

In the end I let my mum put her on loud speaker. She asked me a few questions that I didn't really answer clearly. In the end she said 'Our team have spoken about this Crisis and someone will get back to you at the end of the week.' Did I hear that right? The end of the week?

'I'll most likely be dead by then.' I said, calmly. 'SO DON'T RING ME. BECAUSE I WON'T BE HERE. I'M FED UP OF YOU LOT AND YOUR STUPID NHS. IF ANYTHING PUSHES ME OVER THE EDGE IT WILL BE THE NHS. WHAT'S THE POINT IN HAVING IT? IT WOULD PROBABLY BE LESS STERSSFUL TO FORK OUT HUNDREDS OF POUNDS TO SEE A PRIVATE DOCTOR.'

'I can understand your frustrations.' She said. 'Do you feel like you are going to commit suicide now?'

'What would you care? What would you and your stupid NHS do? Nothing!'

'I would suggest you go to A&E. Maybe they will admit you to hospital for a while.'

I was too angry to finish the conversation with Answa so my mum finished it or me. My mum didn't want to go to A&E as she knew we would have to wait hours for nothing. She hated the idea of the mental hospital at first, but she started to warm towards it. 'Maybe a stay in a hospital won't do you any harm. Maybe I could even stay with you for the first night.' I couldn't believe that this was what my life was coming too. A year and a half prior I was having the time of my life at ABC Nursery, I honestly felt so normal. Now I was debating whether I was going to go into hospital. In the end we went to A&E, because we literally had nothing else. We waited a ridiculous 4 hours over all in A&E. First, a nurse called me in and took my blood pressure. The second woman who called me in did a blood test on me. The third woman was a medical doctor and made sure I was medically fit. She said, when she finished that a person from the mental health team would be over to help us shortly. It felt like a glimmer of hope; but it was all a big waste of time. The man was old and disinterested. He had a strong accent and I didn't understand what he was saying. He kept on getting my name wrong and kept on calling me Amy instead of Hannah. He asked me a load of random questions and basically told my mum to lock up the paracetomal and deal with it, basically.

Things started to get slightly better after the disastrous trip to A&E. I was back on my tablets and maybe they were starting to kick in. However they hadn't made an amazing impact and I was still on edge quiet a lot. A few weeks later we had the meeting for the Care Plan. It was going to be a plan put into place to help me and my mental health. Again, like every meeting they asked me a load of pointless questions and in the end came to the conclusion. We had to wait another 3 months at least for an appointment. Apart from that; they could give us no help and we had to get on with it. By this point I had lost my faith in humans. No one even seemed apologetic for it. No one seemed to care.

Things really seemed to slow down with Dr. Hesketh after that and I slowly started to get better. I stopped going to the Forest Medical Centre for one. My mum emailed Diane one evening and explained that me going to the Forest constantly wasn't good for me and she wanted to have me transferred. Diane commented that we 'always ran away from everything.' And that 'we should give it a chance.' It was another comment that had come out of someone's mouth when they knew little of the situation. I was quite hurt and offended by the comment. We ran away from things for a reason. I couldn't believe after everything that happened that she still wanted me to stay at Forest. In the end, she settled for passing on my mum's complaints to our new GP, Dr. Howell. He rung me up shortly after and explained that he didn't want me to leave Forest and that we could do appointments over the phone instead of coming into the centre. 'There's no bad feelings.' He explained. 'Me and Sarah really don't want you to leave. Sarah wants you to stay and she doesn't want you to feel like you have to go.' It took me a moment to figure out who Sarah actually was, It was the first time I had ever heard someone call her by her first name. After all I had done to Dr. Hesketh, she still felt that way. It temporarily restored my faith in human beings.

A Glimmer Of Hope

Before I knew it, it was the end of another stressful year. The year had started at Fun Start and had ended it almost being admitted to hospital. Although Dr. Hesketh was still on my mind, I tried to enjoy the festive period. Christmas is always a bit of a down occasion in my family as my nan died on Christmas day a few years back, just after I started Stockport. Christmas is about the only time I appreciate having divorced parents. Me, Eva and Max have always received double presents since the split. On boxing day, we spent a few days touring the south west of England to visit my mums side of the family. As the festivities started to die down however, I started to feel depressed again. I was still jobless and felt worthless. Just before school was about to re-start for Eva, Max and my mum (she is a teaching assistant) we got another visit from my aunt, Freddie and Oscar. The last visit had been disastrous and it had been when I sent the messages to Alfie in the Natural History Museum. We didn't go into London with the boys again, but instead did a round of crazy golf at a dinosaur-themed course off the M1. Freddie loved dinosaurs so we did it for him, but I think me, my mum and aunt were enjoying it the most! I loved when Freddie and Oscar came down and started to feel depressed when their visit was coming to an end. After the boys had gone to bed on their final night, me my mum and aunt were having a game of Risk when my mum suggested 'Hey, why don't you go and stay down with Sam and the boys for a few nights.' Me and my aunt both looked at her. I quickly then looked at my aunt for her reaction. 'Oh...' She said. Usually someone would have been nice and welcoming at the idea, but I wasn't offended as she had Asperger's too and I knew it was part of her nature. 'She won't be any trouble Sam. She'll look after the boys so you can chill out.'

'I'm sure it will be fine...' My aunt said, slowly. 'I'll have to check with Thomas first though, obviously.' Thomas was her husband and my uncle. He used to be in the army and the family lived in Turkey for a few years. I knew Thomas would be more than happy to have me there. The next morning my aunt confirmed that Thomas was fine with it so I could go back with her and the boys later that evening. It was a long drive to her house- in a town near Bristol. It was made even longer by Freddie kicking off on the M4, as the journey was long and boring. He started to kick the back of my seat hard. My aunt was trying to calm him down while Oscar was trying to stick up for his mum. 'Leave mummy alone, she's trying to drive.' Oscar pointed out, but it just earned him a thump from Freddie. We then had Oscar crying, Freddie screaming and my aunt shouting. 'Welcome to my life.' She shouted over the cries and the screams.

'You do well.' I reassured her.

Freddie calmed down a bit once we stopped off at the services and got him a drink. Before we knew it, dark was upon us and we were on the slip road, finally coming off the M4. Thomas welcomed us with open arms when we got there. He's now retired from the army but manages an office at Center Parcs.

I was woken up for the next few days by a dog jumping on me early in the morning. 'Peanut, piss off!' I would usually say, trying to push the massive dog of my bed. I didn't usually like dogs, but I had began to like my aunt's dog peanut. Just after I had got settled from being jumped on, I could usually hear Freddie and Oscar bounding down the stairs. 'Hannah, wake up! We are going to Longleat!' Freddie said on the first morning of my stay. Longleat is an animal safari adventure park.

'Ok.' I said to a very excited and literally jumping Freddie and Oscar. 'I'm going to get dressed, I'll see you back in the living room.'

'I wanna stay!' Said Freddie. I paused, worrying that he was going to kick off again, but Oscar spoke on my behalf. 'We can't stay when she gets dressed, we might see her willy!'

I laughed. Actual genuine laughter for the first time in a very very long time. 'Oh Oscar' I said, unable to stop my giggling. Freddie, however, was more irritated that Oscar had got himself all mixed up. 'You are wrong Oscar. She is a girl, which means she has what mummy has. She's got a-'

'Ok Freddie!' I stopped him. 'I think we've established what I have and haven't got. You can go and play on my laptop if you want.' I suggested, which made them run out of the room fast, both of them nudging each other as they did, trying to get the laptop first. I spent the next few days being dragged from playing on Freddie's Wii to Oscar's Xbox. They also liked playing games on my laptop. I spoilt them whilst I was there and brought them lots of new toys and games. I didn't exactly have anything else to spend my money on.

I even babysat while she went to do the weekly shop. She gave me the simple instructions of 'If Freddie attacks Oscar, just pin him down on the floor.'

'Perfect.' I replied. Luckily I didn't have to pin Freddie down and before I knew it this visit also was coming to an end. The boys were very emotional taking me to the train station. I brought my ticket and they came and stood on platform with me, waiting for my train to London. Freddie hid behind my aunt and started sobbing. To try and cheer him up, I brought him and Oscar a chocolate bar from the vending machine. He cheered up a lot and came out with the quote of my stay; 'From Hannah's visit, we know that she's got tons of money and is really good with kids!' I found it quite amusing so I laughed, but my aunt irritably told him that I didn't have loads of money, I was just a nice person to spend the little money I had on them. I was sad to leave Freddie and Oscar, but the best news in months was about to come.

A few weeks after I visited Freddie and Oscar, I got an interview for a job. It was a morning-only job at a pre-school. I was confident in the interview- I knew what I was talking about when it came to the care and development of young children. It was the perfect job for me- it was a council run pre-school and not a private one like Fun Start. It was a job from 9-12 as well which was good as I couldn't of coped with working full time. I also felt confident leaving the interview and part of my felt like I was going to get the job. Luckily, I did and I started the following Monday. I am still in that job now and it was the best job I've ever had. It was the first good thing that had happened to me in a long time.

But I nearly blew it all. Knowing me, I nearly blew it all. There was one more blip to come.

It must of only been a week after I started my new job that something happened. My obsession with Dr. Hesketh was up and down. Usually it's something that triggers me off. And that was exactly what happened. I occasionally used to look on the Facebook account under the name of Amman Khan that I made up whilst in America. I hadn't looked at it much after I had met with Diane that time. Beforehand however, I had sent out a handful of friend request to Dr. Khan's family. As my Facebook account was deactivated for a few months, no one could see my friend requests that I had sent them. However when I logged back in for a quick look on this particular time, I got a notification saying "Sarah Thompson has accepted your friend request". It made me jump violently. Sarah Thompson was married to Dr. Khan's brother Ahmed, which made her Dr. Hesketh's sister-in-law. She was Australian and a lot younger that Ahmed. I scanned through her posts and photos for any sign of Dr. Hesketh but didn't have much luck. I was about to sign off when I had a look through the last album. I came across to old people sitting on a garden bench. I didn't recognize them in the slightest, but it was the photos caption that caught my eye. " _Afternoon Tea at Amman and Sarah's"_ There was only one Sarah and Amman that I knew. I clicked to the next photo which was off a lovely looking cake, with the British and Australian flag poking out the top. This was captioned " _Made by the lovely Sarah Khan!"_ I flicked to the next one. It was a picture of a big piece of paper with dodgy handwriting on it which read " _Our Village welcomes Mr. and Mrs. Thompson from Brisbane Australia!"_ There was also another very dodgy drawing of the Australian flag. This was captioned. " _Alfie, Zoe and Charlie were SO SO EXCITED!!"_ But the next picture was the worst. As I clicked on it, I jumped. Everyone was sitting round a table in what I presumed was Dr. Hesketh's dining room. Dr. Khan was sitting at the head of the table, looking as happy as Larry, with his arm around Dr. Hesketh who sat next to him. Then sat Alfie. I felt a stab of guilt as I looked into Alfie's eyes. Next to Alfie sat who I presumed to be Sarah Thompson's mum and dad. Then sat Sarah herself. She was quite pretty, actually, she was tall with long blonde hair. Next to her sat Dr. Khan's brother Ahmed. Next to him sat Zoe and Charlie. They did indeed look excited and were kneeled up on the chairs, so much so that Charlie's head covered the head of the last person who was sitting at the table, who I guessed was Dr. Khan's mother. The photo was captioned " _The WHOLE family!"_ I looked back at Dr. Hesketh again. She was right at the back of the photo, so you couldn't really see her but she looked really young. The picture was only taken four and a half years prior, but you could see the difference in her face. It was wrinkle and age spot free. Dr. Khan also looked different, much younger and dare I say it- almost handsome. I looked again at Dr. Hesketh's children. Charlie was an image of Alfie. Both of them resembled Dr. Hesketh so much. With the wavy hair and big green eyes. Zoe looked different from the both of them. Zoe was also very pretty. Not looking like her mother in the slightest she had long brown curly hair and a lovely skin tone. I was surprised I had the concentration to study them in so much detail. My heart was racing. I had to see Dr. Hesketh, I had to speak to her. I was at my dad's house at the time, alone, waiting for my mum to come back from work. I thought over my plan in my head. It was a Monday, Dr. Hesketh was at home and Dr. Khan was at work. I climbed down the stairs and grabbed the home phone. Dialing the number I felt ill. My heart was beating so hard it was hurting. My head was buzzing. I crashed back down to reality however when the voice of Dr. Khan answered the phone. 'What the?' I muttered, slamming the phone down on the hook, hanging up on him. What on earth was he doing at home? I thought. He worked full time. Unless it was his admin afternoon, which meant he may have been working from home. I was still breathing heavily. This wasn't over yet. I picked the phone back up again. I had a plan. It wasn't a very smooth plan, however it was the only one I could think up with my mind racing so much. I rang the number again. I planned to ask to speak to Dr. Hesketh herself about her boiler. But before anyone could answer, the phone line cut off. My home phone had ran out of charge. 'You bastard!' I said, throwing the phone down on the floor. I quickly put my phone on charge, waiting. Whilst I went through these compulsive phrases, I never really think to tell anyone I was going through them. My mum constantly was saying 'Just tell me before you are going to do something!' But it wasn't as easy as that. I usually had complete tunnel vision and couldn't think of anything else. This time, however something in me managed to get past my tunnel vision and text my mum for help. She picked me up and took me to Tesco's. I followed her around gloomily while she shopped. I probably looked strange to onlookers, as I compulsively knocked things of the shelf and kicked things. My brain was just in one big knot. I had also explained to my mum what I did whilst I was at my dads. 'Hopefully they will just think it's a prank call.' My mum said, hopefully.

I went to work the next morning as if nothing happened. Once I had finished work, I went out for lunch with my mum. I had just got paid so was treating her as I didn't often do it. Whilst we were eating lunch, my mum got a call from a private number. 'Shit' she muttered, 'It's probably Forest.' And sure enough, Diane was on the other side of the phone. I had seen Diane a few times after the whole incident, mostly to talk about my medical records and my return to Fun Start. Although the phone wasn't on loud speaker, if I listened hard I could hear what Diane was saying. She first asked my mum whether she knew anything about a few phone calls going to Dr. Hesketh last night. My mum spoke to her for a while, I kind of zoned out. I only zoned back in when I heard my mum say 'Right... so you are going to call the police then.' I jumped up quickly and aggressively launched myself across the table to try and grab my mum's phone. 'Let me speak to her! Tell her if she dares call the police....I'll......Tell her I work with children. TELL HER I WORK WITH CHILDREN!'

My mum ignored me and carried on speaking to Diane. 'Let me speak to her.' I demanded. Diane could obviously hear me in the background as I heard her say 'If Hannah wants to speak to me, that's fine.' My mum didn't have any choice but to pass the phone to me, mouthing 'be nice' as she did.

'Right.' I started, but Diane cut me off.

'Hello Hannah, how are you?' Despite the apparent seriousness of the situation, Diane's voice was upbeat, as if she was ringing me for a friendly chat.

'Not great really. You gonna call the police then or what? Put me out of my misery.'

'We are just discussing all our options.' Diane explained. 'You do know it was wrong don't you Hannah? To call Dr. Hesketh at her home number? The home number's not in the address book so it means you've really searched for it.'

'Of course I know it was wrong. I'm not an idiot.'

'No, I know you're not Hannah.' Diane said, quickly, 'I've seen you enough times to know that that isn't true.'

She asked me what trigged me off to do what I did, so I told her. It was a bit confusing as of course there was Sarah Thompson involved as well as Sarah Hesketh/Khan and I think Diane got a bit confused about the multiple Sarah's during the conversation. After Diane had finally put the puzzle pieces together, I asked Diane the same question about the police. She again said she wasn't sure. This was when I lost it. 'GO ON. CALL THE POLICE, SEE WHAT HAPPENS TO YOUR PRECIOUS SARAH HESKETH, KHAN OR WHATEVER HER STUPID NAME IS. GO ON. I'LL DO WORSE SO WATCH YOUR STEP. IF YOU DO ANYTHING TO JEPODIZE MY JOB THEN GOD HELP WHAT I'LL DO!' I then, rather calmly handed the phone back to my mum, with half the café looking at us. 'Hannah.' My mum mouthed. 'Everyone's looking at us.'

'Then they can know what a stupid fucking idiot Diane is from Forest. YES. I'M SURE YOU ALL KNOW THE GIRL.'

My mum spent a few minutes speaking to Diane on the phone. Diane said she would call us when she had more information. Just before Christmas, I had to face the reality that I could go into hospital. Just over 2 months later, I had to face the reality that I could be getting a criminal record.

Luckily nothing came of that unfortunate blip. Diane didn't get in contact with us again after the day I shouted down the phone at her and a week later I was successfully transferred from Forest Medical Centre to The Tree's Medical centre. A smaller medical centre, it had just three doctors. By the sounds of the receptionist who I spoke to when I registered, the surgery was mostly full of people who had given up on the Forest and it's bad service.

I haven't heard from Forest, Diane or anyone associated with Dr. Hesketh since the phone call. My mum sent a polite email to Diane thanking her for all her help when I transferred surgeries. We received nothing back.

Update

I still have hopes and dreams for the future. I was 19 when the Dr. Hesketh situation calmed down. It wasn't over. It still isn't now. I still feel as If I'm in love with her. I'm trying to move on, however and am trying to make a better life for myself. I am still waiting for therapy now, but some positive things have happened. The most positive recent thing that's happened is that I have been accepted into University. I am going to study next September and will be studying a Childhood Studies degree. After everything that had happened I was off to university. I hoped my life would go according to plan, I hope to finish my degree and become a teacher. I haven't got much enthusiasm for a partner at the moment but I want to either adopt or foster children in a few years when I am qualified. If I was working and had a little baby in my arms; I know that I will be blissfully happy. It's honestly about the only thing that keeps me going.

I don't know what will happen in the future, it could go any way. I think I will always be obsessed with people to a degree, but once I am working and have a family the obsessive behavior will hopefully be minimal.

I have written this book for a few reasons. The main reason being to show people how help and support for children and adults with special needs is way behind what it should be. From being shouted at and treated badly at school, to being discriminated against in work and let down by the National Health System, Mental Health awareness needs to be improved greatly. My biggest hope for the world is that no one has to go what I've been through. I hope that the next young girl who comes along will be treated with sympathy and empathy. I hope she will be given help and support by others around her. Without a doubt, if I had a positive school life I would of gone onto further education and then onto university. Having a steady young life is key to being a successful adult. That's why I'm so interested in the development of children. They are our future. If every child in the world had a steady and loving upbringing, I am for sure that the word would be a different place. Being nice and helpful to a teenager at their most vulnerable stage makes such a difference.

I have such empathy with anyone who struggles with their Mental Health. It's such a horrible situation to be in; you feel as if you're trapped. You feel as if you are not the person that's controlling your mind. Many people have thought wrongly of me in the past. A physical abuser, a sexual harraser, a risk, a child hitter, a general danger to children and other insults have been thrown into my direction. In fact, I am none of those things. It's sad, however that my mental health has allowed to get me to such a point at times; where I start to display bad behaviours. I'm nothing like the person displayed above. It's hard to explain, but deep down I feel as If I'm a good person.

I'd like to take the last part of my book to give my most sencire apologies. I'm so sorry to everyone I have hurt along the way. Ms. Baker and her family, Mrs. Young and her family and most importantly Dr. Hesketh and her family. All the people I hurt were such lovely and amazing people who didn't deserve it. I'll remember my obsessions for ever, and I'm sure a few of them will remember me for a while to. I want them to know also how ill I was for me to display the actions that I did.

Sometimes the perpetrator is just as much the victim as the victim themselves.

Please visit my website, blog and twitter page.... Also please review this book on Amazon!

**Website:**www.hannahbarlett.com

**Find my blog and twitter page on my amazon author page:**www.amazon.co.uk/Hannah-Barlett/e/B00M05Q6TM

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If you have any questions, queries or comments, please email hannahbarlettauthor@gmail.com
