Ginger.

.

"Ginger!" I hear from behind me, I don't look.

"Hey Ginger, is your hair ginger or orange?" I still ignore him. The boy grabs my arm and I pull away, trying to ignore him.

"Is it true gingers' have fiery tempers?" I hear him asking me, I keep on walking, staring straight ahead, blocking out the sound of his voice by turning the music in my headphones up.

I walk down a kerb, I don't know if he's still behind me, I start paying attention when I hear a car's brakes screeching next to me, I turn my head but it's too late, the car hits me.

As I lie on the ground I hear shouts of "Call 999" "Get an ambulance" "Don't touch her she could be injured" and "Anyone know who she is?" I hear the boy from earlier say "No, she's just a girl from my college, I don't know her name." He doesn't even know my name and he's been picking on me since the day we met.

I am just the girl on the ground, the one who had been hit by a car, the girl from college, the girl with no name, the ginger, apparently I have no other characteristics that make me stand out.

I am the ginger girl and now I am the dead girl.