Tracy Beaker Returns: Profile: Elektra

I’m Elektra. Yes, I’m in care. So? It’s not that bad at the Dumping Ground. I’ve been in worse places and the good thing is, when there’s a load of kids around it’s easier to slip under the radar. At least no-one’s on my case here. There’s none of that “tidy your room.” “You’re not going out dressed like that.” “You can’t be friends with her.” Well, not much of it anyway.

I don’t have any mates at the DG. It’s safer that way. If you don’t trust anyone, then there’s no-one to betray you. I learned that the hard way. Why am I in care? That’s between me and my social worker - whoever they are this month, I hardly ever see the same one twice.

The way I look on it, being in care’s just something to get through. As soon as I can, I’m out of here. I’m not sure what I’m going to do next. University, probably. I quite fancy doing an engineering degree. I haven’t decided what I want to be yet. But I have decided what I’m never going to be - and that’s a lame-brain loser who can’t support herself.