They called me Ophelia after a box of chocolates. I hate them. My father gave the chocolates to my mother on the day I was born, but then my mother disappeared.

We still have the chocolate box, only my grandmother keeps photographs in it now. It’s not fair. The box was a present to my mother and she would have wanted me to have it.

It is not as if my grandmother is a real grandmother either. She is only my step grandmother so she had no right to put her photographs in my box.

There is a picture of a drowned woman on the lid. Her name is Ophelia and she is floating in the water with her mouth open like a dead fish. Ophelia was engaged to a prince called Hamlet but then she went mad and drowned herself before they had a chance to get married.

Everyone says I am the spitting image of the Ophelia on the box. Sometimes I get really scared that I will go mad and end up like she did.

I wish I didn’t look like her because I don’t want to drown. I would like to die properly of natural causes.