Taylor Bennett. Brummie. East Ender. Chav.

Nobody knew who her father was. Not Taylor. Not her mother. But it didn't matter, did it? In Taylor's opinion, dads sucked.

Her mother, though, was a nineteen year-old girl called Sharon who'd been kicked out of her parents' house once they found out she was pregnant. Taylor never much cared for her mother. At least, she didn't think so.

For a year or so, the two girls just about survived in a dodgy apartment building in a rough area of Birmingham. Then Sharon met this guy, Dave, who she quickly moved in with. They had twin boys, Ethan and Nathan. Taylor didn't much like Dave either, even though she was only a young child when she lived with him. Dave cleared off fairly quickly. He went off on a "business trip" and never returned.

Things only went downhill from there. Sharon got into drugs when Taylor was about six. They almost starved. They got put into social services and got transferred up to East London, which was only slightly better than Birmingham.

Ethan and Nathan were adopted almost immediately, with their big sad eyes and innocent faces. Nobody spared Taylor a second chance.

By the time she was ten, she had given up with life. Nobody wanted to adopt a ten year-old, everyone knew that.

But her bitch of a social worker actually did something good in the end. She found a school, called St Trinians. "It takes unwanted rejects like you," the woman, Tracey, had told her. And Taylor had jumped at the chance to get out of the care home.

It was the best thing that ever happened to her.