My mum and dad are from Portugal, we came here six years ago when I was ten, and my little brother Alejandro (the Dork, as I call him) was five. He doesn’t remember coming here, but I do, because Torres Vedras, where we come from, is a beautiful sunny town, lots of old buildings and cafés and blue sea. We arrived in England and it was raining and the houses and the sea were all grey. My dad used to work in the vineyards, but we came here because they could earn more money. Mum packs flowers and dad works in a chicken factory. He usually smells disgusting when he gets home (blood and innards).
I’m 16, and pretty much a loner, although I’m not bullied or anything. But I know I don’t look like all the skinny glamour queens who rule the school. I keep trying to go on diets, but they never last – I end up eating twice as much because I can’t stop thinking about food. Mum says it’s comfort eating. I’m guessing she means I’m fat because of Pilar dying. She was my older sister and she got killed in Portugal in a car accident before we came here. I miss her a lot. She was really beautiful, all the boys fancied her. Mum says I’m beautiful too, but then she’s my mum.
I like music - this is my favourite track at the moment, it's by Icarus.
