My first fanfic, please review! Thanks xxx

"Abi, we need to talk."

I was sitting at the kitchen table with my mum and dad. I was confused. What was there to talk about? We're they getting a divorce? No, they were holding hands, and try hardly ever fight. I knew mum was pregnant, so it couldn't be that either. What was the problem?

"Abigail, we're not letting you go to Cambridge." Said mum.

"What!" I shouted. I had to go to that university. It was the only one in London that had the performing arts course that I needed. "But-"

"No buts, we're not letting you waste your life as a want to be actress." What. They had jut taken away my life ambition. I had worked so hard! It took so much effort to get a place at Cambridge, and now it had all gone to waste, and I had no family I fund me. Great.

" I knew you would ruin everything, all you ever do is crush my dreams!" I spat venomously at them, whilst slamming my fists on the table. "I hate you!" I screamed.

I could tell that my parents were shouting at me, begging for me to listen, but I was sick of it. Every time. When I was 13 I was forced to take science instead of drama. At 16 I had to give up my theatre school. My dreams were never good enough for my perfect parents.

The blood pounded in my ears. My one shot. Probably my only shot, gone. I sprinted upstairs and into my room, slamming the door behind me. I then fell back onto my bed. My music was playing loudly from my speakers in the corner, some good old Coldplay.

I knew that to get my way, I had to go. No, not go for five minutes to get some air. I had to leave for good.

I quickly put my plan into action. I threw my old messenger bag onto my bed and packed all of the essentials; clothes, water, food, hair brush, phone and... Blade. No, bit a knife. A razor. For self harmers.

I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs. I had to leave. Now. Luckily, me window was at the front of the house, making my getaway much easier. However, my room was on the top floor of a 2 floor house.

Using my very extensive get away skills ( learnt from Scooby Doo aged seven) I tied my bed sheets into a makeshift rope. I could hear the footsteps coming closer to my door. I tied one end of the rope to the bed, then threw the other end out of the window.

I sat on the window sill and swing my legs over the edge. I tried to dry my tears, but to no avail. Taking a deep breath, I looked at my old purple room. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Time to go.

I awkwardly clambered down the rope, and into the inky black night.

It was midnight. I was lost. The night was suffocating the light out of London, making the street lamps flicker. The full recognition of what happened earlier hit my like a ton of bricks. I couldn't go back, not ever.

My cold hands fumbled with the zip on my bag in a poor attempt to open it. ZIP. It was open. I took out my sharp instrument and studied it in the dim light. With tears streaming down my face, I took off my wristbands and looked at the puckered white acts that littered my skin. It had been a long time. The blade now seemed like my only friend. I placed it on my left wrist. I closed my eyes as the sweet relief coursed through my body. I felt the water if life draining away, and the world melted into darkness...