Photograph

Check out this photo.

See? There's me, in the middle, the one that's laughing her head off, the one that looks phenomenally stupid. I don't know why my legs are like that, I suppose I was falling backwards when the flash went off. Oh well, I look happy don't I?

On my left, that's Yasmin. Yes, we don't know either. She was trying to push me over, get Dakota and run out of the picture at the same time. Needless to say it didn't work. Dakota's on my right, as usual. She's lounging against the wall looking straight ahead; doesn't she remind you of those band pictures you get, where they're all just lined up looking at the camera?

I like this picture. I can hold it in my hands, close my eyes and remember us trying several times to get it to work. It makes me feel happy, to know that they're there. We've all got a copy, each held in our heads. I mean after all, that's where we all are really.

My parents have never met my friends. Neither have my other mates come to think of it. None of them hear Dakota or Yasmin, the few I mentioned them to were really worried. One of them event tried to get rid of them. They just don't understand do they?

One of them came back to me yesterday and showed me a website. It was strange, how she was so calm and yet so terrified at the same time about it all. It was something like the royal board of psychiatrists.

"Ellie, this is schizophrenia. It's a disease where a person thinks they hear voices that are real people.

She spoke tentatively, I could see she wanted me to get where she was going. I turned to Yasmin questioningly as I usually do when I don't understand. She stared back. She looked angry. Dakota whispered to me. She looked worried. My friend clicked the mouse again. She didn't want to look at me all of a sudden.

"I think you should get help. You need it Ellie. Have a look through this, it might help to, but you should go talk to someone.

That's when it hit home. My friend, my best friend at my school, the one who I had been through our bullies, tantrums and even her ongoing depression with, thought I was insane. I was livid. But before I could open my mouth Dakota had grabbed me and was pulling me towards the door. Yasmin came alongside us.

"They don't understand. Come on we have to get out of here

And we ran. We ran so far that the breath was left behind us and our legs had minds of their own. We ran to the thicket of the woods where I first met Yasmin, and there we collapsed into a heap, out panting lungs sounding around the trees. We had to be quieter or they'd find us.

I got out the photo then, and held it in my hands. I stared at it for so long it was a senseless blur, indistinguishable from the muddy ground. They don't understand do they, I cried, as the tears dropped on to our faces. They just don't understand.