At age eight, I saw my friend Steven's little sister, Rebecca, I think her name was, get knocked down by a driver going too fast outside the school. I was waiting with my mum for a bus at the time. It happened so quick I thought the car had screeched to a stop and the girl was a dummy who had been thrown out of the car. I can still remember the multicolured knitted sweater and pink skirt she was wearing, and her blond curly hair spilled upon the pavement. It was horrible.

Rebecca later died, sadly. All of the teachers felt really sorry for me in particular, as the whole thing happened about eight feet away from me.

I find it hard to recount the story, but I remember it so clearly. Fortunately this was the only death I remember at school. A few years down the line during my GCSE exams (age 16) some friends and I were wandering across the road about half an hour before the German written paper, one girl gave me quite a scare when she was a bit careless, walked in front of a car, and actually had her shoe knocked off! Thankfully she was okay but I was so freaked out my heart didn't stop thumping until I got into the exam room.