ABSTRACT
GRETA. I have often found when you can't do anything else you can always sit on the road. It's better than screaming. It makes everyone else scream. It makes me very quiet. My mother used to scream. She'd run upstairs after me and pull my hair . I'd sit behind the bedroom door for hours - with the bed pushed up against it. And she'd scream and scream and pound the door. But she couldn't get in. Nobody could. After a while she'd stop and go downstairs. And she'd forget about it. Then I'd put my head down and go to sleep. She'd shout, 'Nobody loves you! Nobody loves
you!' And I'd think it doesn't matter because I love me. I don't need anyone. And then I'd tickle myself, and that would make me smile. Until one day - there was a day we collected outside the university, it was a small march from the Students' Union. And just at the beginning as we linked up to start - I was in the front row, it was very peaceful-we linked arms and suddenly I had this rush of things, as if everything was suddenly centred in one place and it started to move, and it started to make me smile, and I kept trying not to smile; but the smile kept coming until I couldn't hold it back any longer and it grew and grew so big. And then we stepped forward and moved off.
