Anne pulled a screwed up five pound note out of the pocket of her worn out jeans with her shaking hand and handed it to the elderly cashier, picked up the small paper bag and slowly walked out of the shop. Anne was 5 feet and 7 inches tall with long golden shiny locks that flowed past her shoulders and blue eyes that always shone like diamonds and made her stand out from everyone else you saw walking the streets and she had a figure people would die for. To everyone else she seemed and looked perfect but under her clothes there were many marks on her soft, fair, unblemished skin given to her by her own flesh and blood, her mother. This showed and proved she was not and neither was her life, far from it in fact.
She slumped against the steps outside the shop and placed her bag down on the ground beside her. Holding her head in one hand and rubbing her tender beaten skin with the other where her mother had beaten her the previous night. Her eyes started to fill up and tears started to trickle down her beautiful unmarked face. She was sat there in her own little world watching the real world pass by, she could only think of the events of the night before, feeling the pain once again of the ghastly tight grip of her mothers lanky, sweating hands around her neck, she could remember trying her best to unleash the grip on her neck from her mothers evil clutches but as she did her mothers grip just got tighter and tighter. Anne could hear the load THUD the wall made as she was thrown against it and then her mother slapping and hitting her until she fell into a heap on the floor, crying and begging her mother to stop, but she did not she carried on hitting and beating her harder than ever before.
Anne was trying to think of what she had done to deserve all this? Why couldn’t her mother be like everyone else’s, kind and loving instead of beating her to a pulp, why could she not kiss her, say she loved her and tuck her into bed at night. She had decided that was it she could not take it anymore; there was nothing she could do, no other alternative. She could not go on her life being afraid, miserable and alone, she had to do something.
Anne trembling picked up the small paper bag which was placed at her side and nervously opened it slowly. She took out what was inside the bag. She unscrewed the top of the bottle and empted the contents into her sweating, trembling hand. She paused looked around at the world passing by, to her the world was cruel and vile, this was the place in which she wanted to leave and never return to. She took a deep final breath. This was the end, her journeys end.