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Human Snakes

Maybe everyone is as bad as each other?

It's strange, one day, right, I just took a massive step back from the world, and saw humans, saw them properly.

We’re horrible creatures, yanoe, so savage about everything! But what I noticed the most was, boys hurt girls… but girls hurt girls… what is up with that? Do girls really think that telling another girl her trousers are horrible, or she wears way too much makeup, is going to help them? Because it sure as hell isn’t! It's just going to crush her confidence and make her question everything she does. I watched it happen, but don’t get me wrong, I’m not impartial to it. I do it all the time. I judge people, and speak out about it to my friends, I see a girl who has incredibly pale skin, and then jet black hair, and I will turn to my friends 10 seconds later, after she’s out of earshot, and will bitch until I feel satisfied. Why? That girl had never done anything to me? She wasn’t nasty to me, or judgmental about the ways I expressed myself. So how dare I do the same thing about her? And then again, I’ve been the victim of it too? And it sucks, it really sucks, you feel shit for a long time after someone has judged you, or said something nasty about you, and you never really forget it either.

But, boys, boys are worse, do you know why? Because they don’t even know what they are doing wrong. They’ll tell a girl she’s beautiful, or cute and they’ll show so much interest in everything she does. They’ll ask her how her day is and act like they really care. Maybe they do, I don’t know. But then all of sudden, one morning they won't text, they won’t tell you to have a good day, or ask how your day has gone to put a smile upon the face they used to call beautiful. But as girls, we wait, we wait for that text to come through, being incredibly forgiving when it finally does. We always forgive, especially if we like the boy. The worst thing? When that text doesn’t come through, we don’t move on, we think about it for weeks, why didn’t he text me? What did I do wrong? Did I scare him away? Didn’t I show enough interest in him? What’s gone wrong? It must be me, that’s the conclusion we always, always come to. That there is something wrong with us, not the boy, always us.

Then when you see that boy after he’s ignored you, that’s horrible! He’ll smile and be charming and when you want to question why he never texted you again, you can’t. He’ll either give you an excuse as to why, or he’ll just charm you all over again, and you will forget that he ever hurt you. Boys like that are dangerous, not physically, but emotionally and mentally dangerous. It's bullshit, it's utter, utter fucking bullshit. This world is just a messed up placed filled with horrible creatures who end up hurting each other, but pretending like we’re damn fucking fine.

Molly one day, right, turns to me moaning that Daniel, some boy she was speaking to, never texted her again. I comforted her of course, why wouldn’t I, but, like, why was she moaning. I told her that he didn’t deserve her but he does, he did deserve her, well, I think he did, he was charming, good looking, funny, nice, would never hurt anyone, but it was her, she scared him off. Yeah, I admit that Molly is hot, but too many boys have thought that, and that’s why he hasn’t texted her, that’s what I think anyway. She’s easy, not that a girl who acts hard to get for ages is any fun, but Molly has been there with a lot of boys. About 20 or something, mad like that, and she’s only 18. She’s not a slag, because she’s my friend so I can’t call her that, but she’s got nothing to hide, and hiding how many people she’s fucked is not going to go down well, but she’d only been talking to Daniel a month or so, and telling him all her dirty work this soon? Well, I wouldn’t have done it, let's just put it that way.

I was damn quick to judge her, when all this was happening, I was happy to sit in my little nest of love with my boyfriend and judge people on the outside; I was 18 years old but god knows I thought I’d found the one, the one I was going to marry, going to be with forever, I guess were all young and stupid once in our lives. Telling her there would be someone else wasn’t a mistake though, because there will be, yanoe, the next guy will be along before you know it, and it’ll be ‘Daniel who, sorry?’

Good thing for me, though, is that at this point in time, things were perfect for me; I had a great boyfriend, good grades, I was 18 years old and ready to rock the world. Fast forward a little and I end up in a slightly different situation, to say the least.

Although, in saying that, only one thing has changed, the boyfriend. But this isn’t going to be some sad story about how some immature boy broke my heart.

I remember Shiv coming into my room, shouting at me to get up and get sober, forget about the dumb boyfriend who left me for some blonde bimbo, Dexter’s a twat, yeah I agree Shiv, I totally agree, didn’t at the time of course, but when you’re in love you don’t see shit, what a piss take the whole thing was. Sucking his dick every week like he ain’t got two girls to do it. Two years I wasted with him, two. Fucking. Years. Just get out the house, but it's not that easy!

It was that easy. I got myself together pretty quickly, yeah I felt shit constantly, and I always always felt like texting Dexter, there was never a day where I didn’t think about him, texting him, talking to him, something. But in all honesty, it was easy. I’m 18 for Christ's sake. My dating pool was pretty much anyone under the age of 25. Girls and boys included, and it didn’t take long, not really, a month perhaps, that’s when I met Oscar. I couldn’t get used to the fact that I was single, but believe me did parties and nights out help. That’s how I met Oscar; he sat down next to me when I was just by myself, I was smoking, drinking, eating, I had my hair back in a scruffy bun, and I looked bloody awful. He was a smooth talker from the beginning, like they all are, all these damn fuckboys, well I label them all as fuckboys but he wasn't so bad. Daddy always warned me about smooth talkers, they’re the dangerous ones, totally agree and all. I was convinced he wasn’t talking to me anyway, so smooth talker or not, it wasn’t me he was aiming it at. Don’t see another pretty lady round here, Savannah, is it? LOL, I blushed hard when he said that, what a gimp. And you are? Oscar. Oscar, I loved the name, he was bloody gorgeous was Oscar, just my type. Smoke? He accepted of course, we all smoke nowadays, it's fashion, ridiculous fucked up fashion, but fashion nonetheless.

I remembered that night, clear as anything, almost as well as the night I first met Dexter. After he’d taken a puff of the life threatening fashion statement he turned to me with a dead serious face, asking for my number; I remember hesitating, thinking of Dexter as I did, and then remembering how he broke me. That’s when it all started, the second that I put my 11-digit number into his phone. I didn’t expect him to text me, well I did, of course I did, I had a high confidence level, and he had said I was pretty, so of course I expected him to text me, but not that soon after the party. It was the day after I received that message. The message I received changed a lot for me; I used to think it started my process of moving on from Dexter, used to. Now? Now I feel like its turned me into Molly.

I texted him back that night, saying that I’d love to meet up, and sometime soon if he could. He could of course, he was eager as soon as I texted him. I thought about Dexter in that moment, how he had texted me so soon after meeting me, but I had hesitated, the same as I did with Oscar, I waited a day, thinking about how to respond, I felt my heart sink to my feet at that point in time; Dexter had said loved me with all his heart, and now he was gone, and didn’t feel a thing for me. Oscar replied with a time and place, and the date was settled.

I did my makeup and hair before meeting him, I looked hot, hotter than I had when he had met me at the party. I remembered all the times I had dressed up for Dexter and the amount of effort I had put in, and here I was doing it for some other boy. It just felt wrong. I went anyway. We could both drive, so we met at our town's most social place, which was only a 15-minute drive for me. I arrived and I couldn’t see anyone who looked like they were waiting.

I lit up the ridiculous fashion that I found so addictive, but only for the feeling, not the nicotine. It didn’t take long before I got tapped on the shoulder and almost shit my pants, he spun me round. Jesus Christ Oscar, you made me jump. You look stunning! Oh shut up, don’t flatter me, I’ll go red and I’ve spent way too much time on my makeup, I don’t want to sweat it off, thank you very much. I looked him up and down, like all girls do; nu-uh it's not just guys? Girls check guys out all the time, we’re just way more subtle and don’t make it look like we’re a horny dog ready to hump. He looked fit, though, you know, like the casual, I’m a teenage boy, I don’t dress up and try to look sexy but I still manage to look really hot kinda fit. You look good. He kissed me then. Then, of all times, when I was trying to stop my face from warming up and going red. The kiss lasted a long time, our tongues flicked back and forth, his left hand held my face, and his right pulled my body into his. I dropped my fag the kiss felt so good. That kiss, that one bloody amazing kiss, changed everything. Meeting him, him texting me, wanting to meet up, it was all setting up my life for the next couple of months, but that kiss, that kiss got the wretched ball moving. To tell you the truth, the kiss turned me on a lot, and I doubted whether I wanted to stay in a public place. Wow, do you wanna stay here? I don’t. Where do you want to go? Follow me in your car. The place where I was taking him wasn’t very far away, but I knew it would be deserted, I had been there multiple times with Dexter when we were wanting to be mischievous. We arrived at the dark and secluded place, it wasn’t too far from anywhere, and wasn’t dangerous, but I knew the place well. I remember he asked me how I knew the place, because he didn’t even know it existed. I slipped up then, god, that moment haunts me. Dexter, I went to say about Dexter. Oh, my ex. Stopped myself short. Of course I bloody did, imagine how I would have felt if that had been me, and he was about to start talking about his ex, I wouldn’t have liked that. I went for the friends option, telling him that they had been here shagging their boyfriends. I knew that was the only reason I’d come down here with Oscar, gorgeous Oscar, I got back into his car telling him I was cold. I already had everything I was going to do running through my head at this moment, I had my plan, and I was putting it into action. I leant in to kiss him again, wanting to repeat the feeling I had just felt, the flutter in my tummy and the horny feeling I had got. I remember unbuttoning his jacket and pulling it off with ease, then, shit, this bit was bad, I remember tryna pull his top of and him pausing, stopping me from pulling it over his head. Oh god what? He questioned if I was sure about it. Oh god, you’re not a virgin, are you? Those were my exact words. He seemed to get rather defensive at that point. Of course I’m not, I’m 18 years old. I know some virgins, I remember thinking, not everyone gets the chance to have sex before they’re 18. LOL, I thought about that for a second, only the ugly ones don’t have sex before they’re 18, and they probably only have sex after they’re 18 because they got pissed and some drunken mess shagged them thinking they were hot. Society isn’t the same nowadays, you’re frigid if you don’t have sex. You’re stuck up, or you’ve got something wrong with you, you absolutely have to have sex before you’re 18, or you’re just not cool because you can’t relate to anyone. Lord knows what I would’ve done if I hadn’t have met Dexter. Probably ended up banging someone in a bush at a party when I was off my face and he thought it was a good time to take advantage.

The sex was amazing, not joking, it was so good, the way he’d undressed me gave me shivers. His fingers were so soft against my skin, yet so controlled, and I loved for a boy to take control. I sat on the back seats of his car, my back arched as he kissed down my body, sucking gently as to not leave trampy love bites. The wetness of my fanny was already seeping through my thong, and before I knew it, my thong was off my body, and on the seat beside me. His wet tongue took one lick and I exhaled so loudly he looked up and smirked. One of his hands was grabbing my left boob, my nipple hard under his grip, his other hand was on my now extremely wet vagina. His tongue worked his way around it, like he’d been doing it for years. I tried to hold my moans back, tried and failed. As he was still down on me, giving it a good go, I felt guilt. Guilt. Fucking guilt. What a shitty time to feel guilt. I had nothing to be guilty for, I was fine as fuck, man. I looked down at the boy licking my fanny, and as he pulled away, his mouth wet, my guilt disappeared and my horniness took over. I pushed him down onto the seat, his clothes already off on the floor of his car, and his boner so hard that his boxers stood up away from his crotch. I pulled them down, knowing exactly what to do. I wet the tip, only slightly, so it didn’t slip all the way down and end up giving him wet pubes. I twisted my hand up and down his shaft, and then I went in. In discussions with my girls, they always said boys preferred it slow and then fast, but that wasn’t my tactic; fast from the beginning and then they cum quicker in sex. Cumming quick wasn't an issue as long as I got my turn in first. I didn’t enjoy head, not at all. To tell you the truth, no girls do. It's bullshit if a girl says she likes it. Its utter bullshit. Who likes a guy shoving your head up and down on his rock hard cock, so that you gag and splutter and tell yourself repeatedly that you’re absolutely fucking not going to puke all over his dick? But we still do it? Don’t we? Yeah. Shitty ass thing, that. Why do we do it? Because we feel under pressure, yeah, guys put us under pressure all the fucking time. I carried on working up and down his shaft, moving my tongue around, and sucking up when I did. Oscar started moaning, so I carried on for a little longer. After 5 minutes more my cheeks and jaw started to ache, so I pulled away and swung my leg over him, so I was straddling his crotch. Both of us were wet, so sliding his dick in was easy. The car wasn’t exactly roomy and sex in real life is absolutely nothing like the movie, it's not two bodies moving in unison and as the girl, the guy doesn’t know what you like straight away and vice versa, too. We barely kissed throughout sex, I was too busy trying to make the sex good for him, as girls do; I think boys do that, too, try and last as long as they can for girls. But like, girls don’t like it if sex goes on forever? That’s why condoms are such an issue; they make a guy last forever, and we don’t want them to. Girls, in truth, want a guy to last 10 minutes after all the foreplay; well, about that, and we want it to be good sex, and then they cum. That’s when the sex is good, not when it goes on forever. Boys may think that’s what we want, but we don’t, we get bored, we let you just bang us whilst we think about what we’re having for dinner and what we’re gonna wear into town next weekend. Like, long sex is no fun, hunny bun. Also, girls fake their moans a lot, sorry guys, to hit you with that fucking bombshell, but fuck do we fake our moans, it because guys never moan loudly, and unlike the movies or, yanoe, porn, sex most definitely isn’t perfect and sometimes we just can’t stand the silence or the sound of your dick going in and out of us. Or, the other big or, we want you to know that we’re having a good time, that we’re enjoying it and you’re doing a good job. I guess boys will never actually know which one it is. Haha, sorry suckers! After Oscar had finished and we searched for the tissues he kept in his car to clean everything up, my mind wavered. LOL, that’s another thing though, just to swing back to that last point quickly. In the movies, you never ever see the awkward bit afterwards, like when the guy has finished and sex is over? Like, what do they do? They never seem to clear it up; if we don’t want to clear it up it has to go in our mouths and we have to swallow it like a nasty shot. Boys can’t finish in us because we’re all too scared of pregnancy and stuff, like even with the pill, or they never take the condom off? Movie sex is so unrealistic. But anyway, as my mind wavered when I was wiping the wet off me so I could put my clothes back on, I thought about how good the sex was but if things could be worse, I still preferred it with Dexter, the actual bad thing? I didn’t feel a thing for Oscar; yeah I liked him, he was nice, funny, smart attractive, but man I just wanted his body. I went home after we’d finished, I just slept, thinking about what I had done. I was Molly. I was a slut, a whore, a slag, all the names you can think of. Shit, man, I fucking loved the feeling.

When I got back to school after that weekend, the girls questioned me like I was having an interview to get into bloody Cambridge Uni for Christ sake. I wasn’t very responsive, however, I remember Shivani asking me if we did anything, like we were 13 year olds, does he ‘like like’ you? That’s all I could picture her saying. I told them the truth, straight out, didn’t beat around the bush. I don’t understand why people do that anymore, especially to their friends. Just tell each other the bloody truth and be done with it. It's hypocritical of me to say that I know, but I swear I’d never lie to my friends, they’re my friends, they can love me for who I am, or they can fuck right off. I didn’t beat around the bush at all. We had sex. I remember their faces, their reactions, this was me, simplistic little me, Shiv pulled my hair so hard out of shock I thought I was going to cry, it wasn’t funny. None of them could believe me. I had been the good one in the friendship group, only had sex for love, only been with 1 person, looked down on Molly for all her boys, and constantly going on about how amazing sex is with the right person. It was all bullshit though; yeah I preferred sex with Dexter, but I reckon that’s only because he knew my ways, knew what I liked. If Oscar can make me feel that good and shag me that well on the first go, well, he’s gonna be pretty fucking amazing in a couple of months once he’s got to know everything I like, right? Right.

Molly really annoyed me that day. She asked me how I could shag someone, so soon after Dexter, Molly, of all people! what about Dexter? Her face all cute and innocent like she hasn't had 20 plus cocks in her mouth. I got angry; I never usually got angry at my friends, but I did. What about Dexter? What about him? He doesn't love me! He was off shagging some slag whilst was at home trusting him! I just want to shag people, and have fun now that I'm single, anyway, he's probably shagged more people since we've been broken up, I have done nothing wrong and I have not hurt Dexter. They moved on after that little outburst of mine, knowing that Molly had officially crossed the line. Has Oscar texted you since? she moved on, I nodded, I’d spoken to him a bit, he’d been really sweet, saying that he wanted to see me again. The girls quizzed me as to whether I was going to see him again. Of course I was, wasn't going to let sex like that just walk away? I wanted that in my life for sure; I don't want a relationship though? Again, I remember their faces forming such shocked expressions at that too, like I had just said something completely disgraceful. My friends were judging me, my friends were literally stood in front of me, judging me.

I did see Oscar again of course, but I literally just wanted to have sex, so every time I saw him, we were skin to skin, kissing, sweating, and then I’d leave. I did that every time. Never did I stick around. That was the type of person I had turned into, but I didn’t care, I had been hurt and I felt nothing for anyone. That’s the bad thing; you get hurt by one person, and you seek revenge, but you never seek revenge on just the one person, you turn against the whole world, hurting anyone you can, just to feel a little better about yourself, and forget about the pain you’re feeling, but it doesn't work like that, honestly it does not. You hurt everyone else and nothing ever changes within yourself, we all turn into shitty people when we’ve been hurt.

Things only got worse for me, the more parties I went to, I’d come away with a new boy, and I’d be meeting up with him, having sex with him. I tried to make sure there was no cross over on the boys, make sure none of them were friends, so they couldn’t find out `bout each other, but so what if they did, they didn’t mean anything to me anyway, and if one found out about the other, but the other one didn’t find out about him, I only lost one person, so I wasn’t bothered. I’d got my totally up from 2 after Dexter and Oscar to 9 in the space of 3 months. I was juggling a lot of boys, but to be honest, I loved the feeling, I felt wanted, but it was just a false sense of security. The girls at school started to catch on, and I don’t just mean my friends, rumours went round that I was just shagging people for fun, that’s when I realised how bitchy girls could be.

I walked in to the common room at school and people stopped speaking, they all stared at me, only for about 20 seconds and then went back to speaking to each other, whispering, raising their eyebrows. Those 20 seconds felt like forever though, and I swear I saw every eyebrow raise, every wide eye, and every smirk. It was the worst.

I remember sitting down with my friends, they were laughing and joking around. I remember Karen talking about her brother, talking about him in some way, and then I joked around with her, and that’s when things got personal. They got real personal, real quickly. I stated that I wanted to marry Karen’s brother because he was so sexy. No you’re not, my brother can do far better than you. Those were her words, the disgust in her voice and on her face made my heart leap into my mouth, my veins thumped, and I felt my breath catch. I processed what she had just said, and wanted to turn round and deck her so hard in her judgmental disgusted face.

The other girls moved away from Karen after she had said that, and gave her a dirty look; I just felt so hurt however. She was supposed to be one of my best friends; I knew why she was saying that to me, it was because of the amount of boys I was currently sleeping with. I felt the sting of her comment for days, and it made me rethink everything that I was doing, I started thinking about the amount of boys I had led on, and that it possibly wasn’t a very nice thing to be doing. Things started to change then. I left some boys out of the situation, ghosted them, pretended that my phone broke and that we couldn’t speak, they got the picture in the end. My total was now 11, and I’d given myself a reputation, a nasty reputation, and reputations travel fast. Very fast.

I remember the party that changed my view on everything, literally everything. I spilt some girls drink, and as you do, offered her mine, but she just said she’d go and make herself another one. I really wish the girl had just taken my drink, and stayed on the dance floor. I don’t know how things would have gone if she had, but I always think they would have been different. I had felt a hand on my waist after the girl had left. That was cute of you, were the next words I heard. I turned around and yelled to the person who had spoken to me. It was a boy, I couldn't really see him in the dark, he was talking about me offering the girl my drink, and how that was a cute thing to do; I disagreed, and went to carry on dancing, half drunk, and wanting to have a good time with some friends, but I sensed that was not going to happen from the way he stood so close to me, almost territorially. Do you want to go outside? I didn’t really have much choice about going outside, he was already pulling me towards the door. I got a good look at him when we were outside; he was beautiful. Why on earth was this gorgeous guy talking to me? That’s what I thought at the time. My heart dropped a little when he asked if I was Savannah Edwards; he obviously knew me somehow, and I knew it wouldn't be something good or positive. I didn't dare ask how he knew that, though, thinking of a situation that would be desirable. Like he’d seen me at the beginning of the party, thought I was beautiful and asked his friend about me, to find out my name so he could start a conversation with me, introduce himself, get to know me. Girls do this all the time, right, we romanticise everything, make it movie worthy because that’s the romanticism that been drilled into our brains, that’s what we believe real life is like. We believe we are all gonna be swept off our feet. The actual reality? Yeah, that romantic crap is bullshit, the actual reality of it, is boys are usually the ones who leave us helpless on the ground, and we have to pick ourselves up, and love ourselves, because if we wait for a guy to do so, we will be waiting forever, we can’t wait to be rescued, we have to save ourselves. He introduced himself, Mark, by the way.

By the end of the party my lips were already sore by how much we’d been getting off. I left thinking about how quickly my life had changed from Dexter to now. The dramatic change in my behaviour and beliefs was crazy. I would've judged me so hard a year ago.

I saw Oscar a couple of days later, we had sex, I felt bad, but I knew he liked me. I don't know why I didn't register how shitty all of this was. Like why I thought it was okay to destroy another person, just because I had been destroyed. Oscar spoke to me then, really spoke to me, he seemed so different. He spoke about relationships, constantly hinting and implying about wanting to be in one with me. He’d dropped little hints before, I had always noticed them but choose to ignore them. This time I couldn’t. I knew I was hurting him, I could see it in his face, using him in this way. It’s funny because girls think all boys would love to just have sex, no strings attached or anything, just emotionless but guaranteed. But boys have feelings too, and some boys prefer to have an attachment, to be drawn to someone in so many ways that aren't just physical, be associated with someone, have a standing pride about a girl they love, someone to show off and call their own. They are the same as girls in some ways, and I could see, right in front of my eyes, one of these boys. I absolutely knew it wasn't fair on him, but I couldn't set him free, I just couldn’t. I then started to realise how selfish I had become. The whole thought process had put me in a fucking awful mood on the way home. When I pulled my car into my drive, I sat in it for a minute thinking about everything, and then all of a sudden, I cried. I cried proper tears, ugly tears, they stained my face and I looked like I had just done a 2 hour work out or a heavy night of drugs or something. My head hurt like hell when I got out the car and made my way into my house, feeling like the shittiest person that ever did live. By the time I got myself into bed, I had vowed to do the right thing, I was going to cut off all the boys I’d been shagging left, right and centre, and I was going to stop my disgraceful reputation spreading continuously like wild fire.

The next morning was shit, yanoe, felt like almost hungover. I wasn't, of course. I saw I had a text from Mark. Ahh, Mark. Angelic Mark. Or so I thought.

I never hesitated in meeting up with Mark; he was funny, charming, kind, I found myself really starting to like him. I was now only speaking to him and Oscar, if things went tits up with this Mark, I still had Oscar and I could actually try and get to know him, or release him and start at the bottom again, looking for one man and one man only. But if things went great with this Mark, I could set Oscar free. But I played it safe and kept them both on, I thought this was a good thing, a good idea; I didn’t, of course, see the problem with it.

On my third time having sex with Mark, about a month later, I realised I actually really really liked him. I knew then that things were about to go badly, LOL; actually, badly is an understatement, they went fucking awfully. I met up with Oscar, I knew I had to cut things off with him if I wanted to progress with Mark. Before I even got into his car I could see the look on his face. It was a look of disgust, mixed with betrayal. Shit, shit shit shit SHIT. He looked me dead in the eye when I got in. What the fuck is wrong with you, Savannah? Excuse me? How many people have you slept with? Two! You’re a liar. Woah, I had never been called a liar before, I felt hurt, like, really hurt, I wanted to lash out, fucking rip into him like I knew I could; all girls with a pulse have a sour tongue when they want to, yanoe; girls are good at listening so we know how to pull every single fucking string and dance on every nerve. I could've destroyed the boy sat in front of me then, I could've destroyed him for calling me a liar like I was no better than Dexter, but I realised then I already had, I already had destroyed him, there was no need to do it again. Me, Dexter, Antony, Gabe, David? I haven't fucked them! Don't lie to me, I thought you didn't want a relationship because we about to go to uni, Savi, not cus you’re a fucking whore! Broken. Wow. Pieces. Heart, mind, soul, broken pieces. I'm seeing someone, someone I actually like, I'm sorry, Oscar. Get out. He didn't drive off immediately like I thought he would; instead I saw his head drop into his hands for half a minute. I couldn't help but think to myself that he was now going to turn into me, fucking girls over because he’d been fucked over, tryna get his own back on a girl who didn't give a shit, why do we do this? There isn’t going to be a decent person left by the time we’re 30 for fuck sake, like Jesus Christ, you fuck one person over, they fuck 11 people over because of you, and then those 11 fuck 11 more over, and it's a never ending bloody cycle.

I saw Mark a couple of days after my loss of Oscar; we talked all day every day and when we met up we always had sex, I knew when we were sat in the car after a quick shag that I was becoming like Oscar because I kept dropping hints about relationships and stuff, but he never picked up on them. I thought it was just because he was a boy and boys are stupid, I thought that at the time but, my, boys ain’t anywhere near as thick as we think, they hear everything, they just choose to act dumb because we’ll believe them.

I remember going to school, yeah, after a couple of weeks with only speaking to Mark, and one of the girls I'm not even close with overheard a convo with my friends, like, so how many people you got on the go at the moment then, Sav? Like excuse me, hunny bun, want to mind your own fucking business? Just goes to show, though, everyone is interested in what’s going on in your life if it's more interesting than their's, and then when they find out the details they’ll judge you on it. Some girls are just jelly because you can pull a boy and they can’t.

Anyway, right, after about another month of speaking all day every day, life went tits up. I got ready for the party that I was going to with my pals, and was happy that I didn't feel the need to pull when I got there because I’d actually found someone I liked, but of course, my reputation was still existent, and still holding strong ground. Is that Savannah Edwards, is that Savannah Edwards? I felt famous, but I knew it was for all the wrong reasons, so I shut the fuck up. I remember looking across the dance floor and seeing my angelic Mark, my face lit up and I thought that things were going to get a whole let better. Oh, how I wish I had been right, I wish I had been so fucking right, but was I about to get a massive slap in the face. He shoved his tongue down some other girl’s throat and pushed her body against the wall. I walked over, calm collected like the queen bitch I am. Savannah? Um? I thought you liked me? What? Why would you think that, we’re only shagging? You're Savannah Edwards, that’s all you do, people don't actually fall for girls like you, you're good shag for a while, but that’s about it? You actually think you meant more to me? Oh my god, that’s so pathetic, you were just a guaranteed shag because I knew you said yes to everyone.

I waited 'til I left the party to cry, when I got in the taxi on the way home, barely drunk. I got home to my house, took all my makeup off, got in the shower, and scrubbed my body, hard. I scrubbed every inch of me. I made some of my body bleed because I’d taken so much skin off, but I had to get all the skin that that boy had ever touched off my body. I continued to cry for hours. I went outside in joggers and hoodies, my hair tied back away from the face. I got my fags out, and a bottle of wine, and I sat in my back garden, at half 11 at night, smoking and drinking by myself, my body sore and my mind in a state. The next couple of days at school had been utter hell; people stared, gossiped, my friends didn't know what to do, I was the talk of every room I entered, I had never felt more alone. Things changed about me then. I cut my hair, I worked hard at school, I wore very little makeup and I rarely went to parties. But most importantly, I gave myself time to grieve over a lost relationship and the fact that I was cheated on by someone I loved, and I gradually began to feel whole again, but everything I had done was still in the back of everyone’s minds.

Moral of the story is, people, the whole reason why I've told you all this, is because everyone is a shitty person, we’re all doing stuff someone else is going judge you by; you want to be vegan? You're going to get judged. You want to get fit? You're going to get judged. You’re confident in your body even though you're not a size 0? You're going to get hella judged. But just because you’re getting judged doesn't mean you have to judge, too. There are, like, so few nice people left because everyone thinks it's best to fit in with the crowd, follow the majority; well, become the minority, have an influence and who knows, you might become part of the majority, when people realise its not cool to be cruel. Just like me, just because I was destroyed by one person, doesn't mean I had the right to hurt all these other people? So why did I do it? It made me no better off in the end, it only made things worse for me. I had to rediscover who I was, and then things improved. But no, if you make a mistake, or, you know, 11 like me, they’re not going to haunt you forever, just as long as you learn from them, and yes your reputation is going to be forgotten and you will move on with your life. Know your worth, know who you are, and if you don't belittle yourself, no one else can. Always be sure to pick yourself up off the ground, brush yourself off, and be your own knight in shining armour. Just fucking breathe.