Fierce by Kelly Osbourne Read Free Book Online Page A

I really related to the story and could understand what the characters were going through. I’m pleased I read Junk . It gave me a greater understanding of drugs and it actually explained a lot of things to me. I would recommend this book to anyone. When I’m reading in my head, I don’t struggle to read as much as if I have to read out loud. Also, I found it easier to educate myself – I learned loads more that way than sitting in a classroom being force-fed facts!
    I think it’s so stupid of parents not to talk to their kids and inform them about drugs. I was given every reason not to become a drug addict. But this is the interesting bit: if it hadn’t been for my family being so open about drugs then I think I would have been dead by the time I was twenty because they wouldn’t have known how to help me.My mum has always known what to do and where to go when she’s suspected I’ve needed help. What if she hadn’t?

    O BVIOUSLY, when we got to school age, it meant we couldn’t go on tour with dad any more. That was saved for the school holidays and, if he was only in Europe, weekends.
    I used to absolutely hate it when my parents went on tour. We all did. I used to try every trick in the book to get them to stay. In my bedroom in Welders, surrounded by my fairyland mural, I’d stand on my bed and piss all over the duvet and sheets. That would mean I had to go and sleep in Mum and Dad’s bed. I did that from the age of five until I was thirteen. When I was in bed with my mum and dad, I knew they weren’t going away on tour – or rather, I thought they couldn’t go away on tour. I just hated it so much when I was apart from them. Of course, we had some really great nannies at times like Kim, who came from Newcastle. She was lovely. And when she got married I was a bridesmaid with Aimee and Jack was the pageboy. But as lovely as some of the nannies were, I would have preferred it if Mum and Dad had stayed at home.
    Every time they went away, I would write letters begging them: ‘Please don’t leave me.’
    My mum’s kept all of them. They’re at Welders in one of the trunks on the landing outside our bedrooms. My mum keeps everything, although she doesn’t keep anything that isn’t attached to a memory. Butmost things are. I think it’s something you can only fully understand if you’re a mother yourself. At Welders, she has one room that’s just dedicated to photographs. She has cupboards and cupboards full of them. She also has an island in the middle of the room with a glass top. Underneath she has laid out all her favourite photographs so when she goes in she can see them all.
    I don’t keep everything, but I have trouble throwing things away because I’m worried I’m going to want it later in life. When you’re dead you can’t take anything with you, but while I’m still living I like to know where I’ve been and keep the things that have meant something to me.
    It’s absolutely heartbreaking to read over the letters that I sent Mum before she went away. There’s one that says – and I must have been naughty because I’m apologising for something too – ‘To Mummy. I am sorry. Please forgive me. I love you very much. You do not know how much I love you. Please don’t go to Japan. I will miss you too much. Love from Kelly.’
    I’d scribble them while sitting on my bed in my bedroom. Then I would run out and down the spiral staircase that led to my parents’ bedroom. I would tip-toe to their door, fold up the piece of paper and push it through the gap at the bottom so they would find it when they came to open the door.
    In the days leading up to my parents’ trips abroad, I would spend hours sitting on that spiral staircase sobbing, ‘Don’t go. Please don’t go, Mummy and Dadda.’ (I always refer to my father as Dadda. I still do today.)
    ‘In the days leading up to my parents’ trips abroad, I would spend hours sitting on that spiral staircase sobbing, “Don’t go. Please