This is stupid. What should I say? I'm just glad I made it this far, to be honest. I must look stupid. Sat in the school library, beads of sweat dripping down my back. I look down at my hands, as I thought – I'm shaking. There's nobody else here, and for that I'm thankful. Most pupils would be at home right now. I would be putting that off for as long as possible. My fingers traced over the letters on the keyboard. I looked up at the daunting screen.

"Hello Rikki, and welcome to Connexions Direct, My name is Chelsea, How may I help you?"

I scrolled down to the bottom of the window, and read the disclaimer; "Explanation of Confidentiality… We are a confidential service, which means we will not tell anyone else about your call. The only exception to this would be if you told us that you, or someone you know, were in danger, or at risk of serious harm. Then we would have to tell someone else about that, someone who could try and help like a social worker or the Police. But, we could not tell anyone without you giving us your details, and we would talk about it with you first if that was possible, and support you further if we were able to." [A/N the last paragraph, disclaimer is copyright/whatever to Connexions, a site to help teenagers in the United Kingdom]I scrolled back up again, and watched the flashing icon in the answer message box. I summoned up all my courage, and wrote;

"Hi, This is really hard for me..."

The chat box told me that Chelsea was replying, and my breathing got even more heavy.

"There is no need to worry, I am here to help. Now may I ask what is bothering you?"

I turned around quickly and watched the cleaner go up the corridor with a hoover trailing behind him. I turned back at the screen. I'm wasting her time. I sighed. Why would she care? No one else does.

"Is it a family problem, or school related? Or are you just here for some advice?"

I chewed the inside of my cheek. Here goes nothing.

"Yes, its a family problem" I typed very slowly. Then I waited.

"Right, well, For me to be able to help you, I would need to know a bit more about your problem. Is it your parents? Or siblings?"

"Parents" I typed. Then quickly added "Well, parent."

"Well, are you parents getting a divorce? Or has a member of your family past away?"

"No..They are already divorced..Its a different thing.."

"Would you mind telling me? I would just like to remind you that this conversation is kept strictly confidential, and there is no need to be worried. I am here to help you, and I won't be able to do that unless you tell me what's wrong."

"Just forget it." I typed. "I'm wasting your time"

"I am here to help you, My job is to listen to your problems, and give you advice, maybe even intervene if your problem is serious."

I looked around the room. I watched the second hand move around the clock slowly. It was 6o'clock. Father would be expecting dinner about now.

"Help me" I typed.

"Can you tell me, so that I can help you?"

I did another quick scan of the room, I think most of the teachers have probably gone home now. To their nice homes, loving husbands and wives, and their lovely children. Nice dinner, hugs and kisses. I tapped my fingers on the keyboard.

"My father.." I began "Abuses me." I typed the last bit very slowly, as if the keyboard would bite me. All of a sudden, the library door opened, so I quickly turned the screen off and pretended that I was reading a book.

"Well what do we have here then guys. I do believe its a boffin. A disgusting worthless little nerd."

"Leave me alone." I squeaked. But before I knew it, a sudden jolt leapt though my stomach, then a sharp pain in my cheek. I didn't let the tears flow though, I wouldn't give them that satisfaction. I'd keep them held in until later, until father had used me too. Only then would I let it all out, when I was in my dingy small room, wishing for my mum to come back. Wishing for the impossible. My mum couldn't come back, my mum was dead. She died giving birth to me, I think that's the reason why father hates me.

"EXCUSE ME." A voice echoed through library. I looked around, then Mr s Turner, the only teacher in the school who likes me, and possibly the only person in the whole world, had come into the room. " I hope I'm not interrupting anything, boys." The boys looked at each other, then ran out of the door. I just sat on the floor, leaning against one of the pillars in the library. Mrs Turner came over, then helped me get back onto my chair. She smiled at me. I tried to smile back. She reached over the keyboard, and turned the computer screen on. I quickly turned away from her as I realised that she was reading my conversation with the helper.

"Rikki.." She leaned forwards, and put her hand on my shoulder. I turned around, then she held me closer into a hug. I let the tears flow freely, I moved my head up, then realised she had a wet patch on her top. "I'm sorry.." I said.

"There's no need to be. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Help me." I whispered. "I can't do this alone any more, please help me"

She looked at me and smiled. "Of course I'll help you." She tightened her hug. I smiled the most genuine smile I have done in all my life.

"Thank you"