Stolen Girl (3 page)

I
was still only eleven years old when I started my periods. I didn’t even know what a period was and so, when I saw the toilet bowl full of blood, I panicked and went running straight to Mum. I was so scared that I didn’t even stop to flush the loo first.

Bleary-eyed, my brother Andrew stumbled into the bathroom for a wee and reeled back in horror.

‘Mum! Katie’s left blood all in the toilet – I think she’s bleeding to death!’ he screamed in horror. His voice was so loud it carried throughout the house. It was a warm day and the windows were wide open. I cringed because I was worried everyone would hear, even the neighbours.

Mum was shocked when she heard him call. Then she saw my face, tear-stained and frightened. I didn’t understand what was happening to me and at first I was scared I was dying. Mum was upset too. Upset she was losing her little girl to puberty so
early. I didn’t realise it then but that day I’d taken my first steps towards becoming a woman.

‘Does it hurt anywhere?’ Mum said, gently rocking me in her arms. I smelt her perfume, stale from the night before, and immediately felt reassured. I clutched a hand around my stomach; it felt both hard and swollen. I winced as it twisted inside with pain.

‘My tummy hurts,’ I whispered.

Mum pulled me close again and smoothed my hair beneath the palm of her hand.

‘It’s called a period, Katie. Women have them once every month, it’s just something that happens – it’s nothing to be frightened of.’

I looked at Mum with wide eyes.

‘Every month? You mean I’ll have to go through this
every
month?’ I gasped. Mum looked down at my confused face and nodded.

I shuddered at the thought of so much pain. ‘Will it hurt like this every time?’

‘Sometimes it will hurt more than others but the first time is always the worst. After a while you’ll get used to it, I promise.’

With that she got up, walked over to a side cabinet and pulled open the top drawer. I knew it contained her underwear but she pushed it to one side and pulled something out. Holding it in her hand, she turned to face me.

‘You need to use these, Katie,’ she explained, waving some white things in the air. ‘They’re called sanitary towels and they’ll stop the blood from getting on your clothes.’

I wanted to weep. I’d always been in such a rush to grow up but now it’d happened, I just wanted to be a little girl again.

Andrew’s voice carried across the landing.

‘Yuck, this is horrible! What should I do? Flush it away?’ he called.

‘Yes, Andrew,’ she replied. ‘Just flush the toilet, please.’

After that, Mum always made sure I carried a sanitary towel in my school bag just in case. I didn’t tell anyone in my class that I’d started my periods. But every time I needed to go to the toilet, they’d all watch and wait for me to pull the odd white thing from my bag. The teacher would nod, as if it was a secret between us. Inwardly, I’d cringe and try to hide the sanitary towel. I’d fold it, cover it with my hands, even push it up inside my sleeve, but my crimson face gave me away. I waited for the name-calling but to my astonishment, nothing was ever said. If the other girls were curious, they never asked. Maybe they felt young in comparison with me, I don’t know. But whatever it was, my periods, like everything else in my life, separated me from the other girls in my class – the gulf between us growing wider every day.

Eventually, I confided in Lauren. She confessed that she’d not yet started her periods and that she felt jealous that I had.

‘My boobs haven’t grown either,’ she moaned, peeking down her school shirt. ‘I’m as flat as an ironing board!’

I shook my head.

‘Lauren, honestly, you don’t want to start your periods. They’re horrible and they really hurt.’

But my best friend just shrugged and looked off into the distance. She was in a hurry to grow up and I knew that I wouldn’t convince her otherwise. Suddenly I remembered the nasty girls.

‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’ I begged, clutching her arm.

‘Don’t be daft, of course I won’t.’

I thought the others probably already knew but I fretted that if Lauren said something, they’d make an even bigger thing out of it. However, true to her word, my best friend never told a soul.

A few weeks later, the music teacher announced there was to be a school play and there would be auditions for a song and dance routine. To my horror, Lauren got it into her head that we should audition for the parts.

‘You’re joking, right?’ I asked, my mouth hanging wide-open with shock. Peg Legs and Dumbo in the school play? I thought she’d gone mad!

‘Why not?’ Lauren exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. ‘Why not us, Katie?’

I shook my head in disbelief.

‘No way,’ I told her. Only the cool popular kids got to be in something like this. Only the popular kids ever got to perform in the school play, it was an unwritten rule. However, Lauren was adamant.

‘But we’re good,’ she insisted. ‘Everyone who’s ever seen us says so.’

Deep down I knew she was right but it went against everything we’d ever been told by the bullies. I was always trying to make myself invisible; doing everything I could to stay out of the limelight but now Lauren wanted to put us up on the stage! Surely it’d give them even more ammunition to fire at us.

But Lauren was my best and only friend, and she really wanted to do this. We’d always stuck together. I couldn’t let her go in alone, so in the end we both went.

The main hall was packed when we walked in through the door. Sure enough, all the popular girls were there and they
gasped as soon as they saw us. Strangely, Lauren seemed excited and not in the least bit nervous but I was so scared that my legs felt like jelly, as though they might collapse underneath me.

As soon as they saw us sneak into the room they began to nudge one another. But Lauren was adamant we’d do this. She tugged at my sleeve and pulled me over towards the piano, where the music teacher was sitting.

I could still hear them whispering as we plonked ourselves down on comfy chairs. Lauren didn’t seem to mind that everyone was looking over but it bothered me. I glanced out through the window of the hall into the school playground. I wished I was outside, running free and as far away from there as possible. Deep down I knew we’d be safe in the audition – the music teacher was strict and wouldn’t stand for any nonsense. It was afterwards, in the playground, that we needed to worry.

One by one, each group was called out to sing the same song, one called ‘Moonlight’, which I’d never heard before. It was a slow song and we had to listen to it a few times before she handed us each a sheet of lyrics.

There were ten girls auditioning for a part. Eight of them were from the popular set; only two weren’t –Lauren and me. But the teacher hadn’t finished. There were only four parts up for grabs so we’d have to compete against each other for a place. The nasty girls smirked at us as if it was already in the bag. I cringed because I knew that we didn’t stand a chance.

But as soon as Lauren and I started to sing I forgot all about the girls. Instead, it was just us two in that room. Suddenly, I was in my bedroom, back in my safe imaginary world. We were up on stage and no one could touch us. I shut my eyes and lost myself in the song. Normally, apart from Lauren, I’d never sing
in front of anyone, yet here I was, hitting every note. My voice lifted up, filling the hall. When I sang, I felt free. It was only once we’d reached the end that I dared open my eyes. I expected laughter, a sly comment, but there was nothing. Instead the popular girls sat there open-mouthed with shock. A warm feeling of satisfaction rose up inside me; that had shut them up.

Lauren nudged me with her elbow and quivered with excitement, as if she knew that we’d just done something very special.

Soon the audition was at an end. The teacher told us to keep the song lyrics so that we could all practise at home. But I didn’t need them. The words were already inside my head, held in that one special moment I would savour forever – the day I wiped the smiles off the bullies’ faces.

Still, Lauren and I practised like mad. We sang at each other’s houses, honing every note until it was perfect. We even worked out simple harmonies to make the song sound better. Although we loved every minute, I convinced myself that’s all it was – just a bit of fun. There was no way that we’d ever be chosen. However, we were one step ahead of the rest of them because by now, we knew the lyrics off by heart; we didn’t need song sheets.

After a few weeks, the music teacher asked each girl to sing a verse solo. My heart began to thud. My head swam with fear as each girl sang before. I wondered what to do – I was terrified that they’d laugh at me, that they’d ruin the one thing that made me truly happy. But, before I knew it, the music teacher had called out my name.

‘Katie, are you ready?’

I nodded my head. The worst they could do was laugh but
I was used to that. I took a deep breath and began. As the words left my mouth, I noticed the teacher nodding at me with approval. It spurred me on and gave me confidence until I’d sung the entire first verse solo in front of them all. When I finished, I glanced down at my feet, waiting for the laughter, but none came. Instead there was a deafening silence. Lauren looked over at me and gave me a quick thumbs-up: I’d done okay.

Moments later the music teacher called out the names of the four chosen girls. My heart sank when I heard her call two of the popular girls. They squealed with excitement and hugged one another as though it’d been expected. The others waited but they weren’t called. As soon as I heard mine and Lauren’s names, I jumped for joy and punched the air. I couldn’t believe it. Gripping Lauren’s hand I gave it a reassuring squeeze. For once, we’d come out on top – we were better than them.

Of course they weren’t happy but I didn’t care. There was nothing they could do, even if they stood there forever, calling us all the names under the sun, it wouldn’t change a thing. We’d won this on our own merit. We were finally up on stage and this time it was for real. The dance routine needed to be performed in pairs, so Lauren and I naturally teamed up. During rehearsals we felt on top of the world. It wasn’t a huge stage like the arena where I’d seen Steps, but it didn’t matter – we were there because we were the best. We practiced and practised until our feet ached. Even though we’d totally mastered the dance routine, we continued to practise – we were determined to show them all we deserved to be there.

When the night finally arrived, my hands shook as I pulled on my black trousers and silver glittery top. Lauren called for me and we walked to school. We were laughing and joking,
dizzy with happiness because we were about to perform for real. But as I saw the school in the distance, the butterflies rose inside my stomach.

We sat backstage and, as the minutes ticked by, I became more and more nervous. The hall was packed. Kids from the school, parents and teachers were all crammed in waiting for the big moment. Suddenly, I heard a round of applause – it was our cue to go on. Lauren and I strode onto the stage, our heads held high as we took our positions. The lights were bright but as I looked out into the distance I noticed a couple of hands waving at me. It was Mum and Dad – they looked so proud. They were here to witness the biggest moment of my life and I prayed that I wouldn’t mess up. The heat from the spotlight seared my skin, its bright light almost blinded me but as soon as the piano started up and familiar notes filled the hall, I forgot my nerves. Lauren and I sang our hearts out. We felt amazing; it was our moment. To be watched. To be seen. To be heard. And not a soul laughed. No one.

In that one moment, the kids could see, if only for a few minutes, that we weren’t just Peg Legs and Dumbo. We were just like them – normal kids with a love and passion for music. Up on that stage, we felt like superstars because we’d been the best – we’d been chosen.

At the end of the routine, the whole hall erupted with applause. Lauren gave my hand a final squeeze as we stepped forward with the other girls and took a bow. Just for that one night, we were untouchable. We were someone – we were better than the bullies simply for being ourselves, and it felt fantastic. However, the best night of my life only fuelled their anger. They despised us for it because that night we’d blurred the boundaries. Being on stage was their territory, not ours.
We’d stood up to them but at the same time we stood out because of it. Then something else happened to make things even worse.

My body was rapidly changing. All the other girls were flat-chested but now when I pulled on my school jumper I noticed it was tighter because I was beginning to grow breasts. I was maturing in more ways than one. My hips and bum began to fill out; I became curvy and I looked as though I had grown up almost overnight. When I stood next to Lauren, we looked ridiculous. I was changing but Lauren was still trapped in the body of a child. By hanging around together we emphasised everything we felt self-conscious of. I seemed to make Lauren look even skinner; she made me look older. I hated being different from my friend and despised my body.

I was developing at such a rate that Mum decided it was time to buy me my first bra and, despite my apprehension, when I first put it on it made me feel older and wiser than the other girls. I knew I was the only one to wear a bra but I was too frightened to let them see it. Instead, when everyone else got changed in the communal dressing room, I’d sneak off and change behind a locked toilet door.

The school had a Christmas disco planned for all the pupils. Lauren and I had been looking forward to it for weeks. We practised our Steps dance moves so that we’d be extra-good on the night. I was convinced that we’d wow the other kids and that, when they saw how talented we were, the bullies would leave us alone, and maybe they’d even want to be our friends.

I pestered Mum for a new outfit and finally she buckled under the pressure. After hours trawling the shops I found the perfect clothes – a pair of black jeans with cool splits at the
ankles and a glittery gold disco top with a big red heart on the front. As soon as I looked at myself in the changing-room mirror I knew it was perfect. I looked grown-up but I also looked trendy. For the first time in my life I felt as if I belonged. As I studied my reflection, I thought this outfit would change everything – it would make me fit in with the popular girls. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.