FOR THE first fourteen years of her life, Jessica and her sister, Sophie, were brought up by their dad near Shepherd's Bush, West London. Three of Jessica's half-sisters and her half-brother lived with her mother in a different area of London.

"Dad gave up his job as a fitter to become a single parent," says Jessica. "Dad's flat was small but he did a good job of looking after us: he moved out of his bedroom and slept on the sofa for years so we could have our own bedroom.

"Secretly, dad was my hero. I should have been grateful for his care - but at the time I wasn't. I loved him and was proud of the respect friends and neighbours had for him - there weren't many single dads around at that time. But I felt angry because I never knew why I didn't live with mum.

"Dad was determined his daughters should be brought up properly. We weren't allowed junk food. Instead, Dad sent us to school with mostly homemade lunches, including lemon juice in a re-used bottle. Embarrassing!"

Jessica began to feel trapped - especially as her dad seemed even more strict with her than he was with Sophie. He insisted Jessica should go to a Catholic girls' school run by nuns in Ladbroke Grove, while Sophie was allowed to go to a mixed school in Holland Park where they didn't have to wear uniform. The two sisters already had problems getting on with each other - now the wedge was driven deeper until they were hardly speaking to each other.

"My friends' families all seemed so close and happy - why couldn't we have a normal family life like them? At school I was getting bullied for being skinny and quiet. By the time I was twelve I often felt I belonged nowhere and that life was pointless. This led me to keep a diary. Now I could be myself and let out on paper all that was inside."

By the time Jessica was fourteen, even her diaries weren't enough and one evening, near the end of 1996, she walked out of her dad's fl at. Two years of living with her mother and then an aunt followed. "Shy, serious Jessie" disappeared and in her place appeared "Jess the rebel", who bunked off school with a friend to smoke draw or explore London by Tube.

"I liked fun and spontaneous adventure: I was tired of being good. Living with mum didn't last long - eventually we had a big argument over something silly and I lost it. Mum called the police to say I was sixteen and uncontrollable - she was kicking me out. A succession of Centre Point hostels followed."

Things went from bad to worse for Jessica and she started going out with a man who turned out to be violent. She managed to get away from him, but a few weeks later she discovered she was pregnant.

"That calmed me down a bit!"

Jessica felt she had something to live for at last. But eight weeks before the baby was due she went into premature labour and her dreams came crashing down.

"I don't remember much about what happened except for massive pain and the nurses giving me a spinal injection and telling me they were sorry but they couldn't hear the baby's heartbeat any more. On 27 November 1999, Mya Shanay was stillborn. I felt her kicking only the day before but during labour she died inside me. I felt so empty."

Jessica was still only 17. One of her sisters, Elisha, came to support her and the hospital arranged a little funeral for Mya. Then Jessica went back to Camden and tried to carry on as normal.

"Such a lot had happened to me in that year - but I had to be strong, didn't I? For a long time I didn't cry. I was determined not to. Instead I wrote a song to God and sung it to Him:

Why did You take my baby? Was there a reason - You've got to tell me!

"The following May, on my 18th birthday, I went clubbing with friends in King's Cross. I'd loved that sort of thing before but now it seemed pointless. Mya's death had matured me. I felt a longing to get away completely from everything that had been my past life and start all over again."

Seven months later, in January 2001, Jessica had an unexpected phone-call from a long-lost friend who was living with some Christians near Northampton. Would Jessica like to come down for a visit?

Jessica's childhood memories of 'church' were a blurry mixture: hymns learnt by rote; big hats; manic Pentecostal praying and people falling all over the place.

"'Church' had terrified me as a child but I decided to accept the invitation and my friend took me to my first Jesus Fellowship meeting. I remember feeling excited and happy and saying to myself 'Wow - I'm home!' I saw something and I went after it! It was only a gathering of ordinary people going to church but something was different. I became fascinated by Jesus and couldn't get enough of the Bible - I'd never known the Bible was like this - it became my manual for life. Jesus became my best friend instead of my diary - Someone who knew all about me, but never rejected me. Fourteen months after my baby's death, in January 2001, just before my 19th birthday, I joined the church and moved in with a single mum and her family.

"In the church I've found the place where I can stop hiding and be totally myself. I still love to sit quiet and listen but I also love to go out and befriend the homeless and the teenagers that hang around - just like I used to - and tell them about Jesus."

Now "serious Jessie" and "Jess the rebel" both have their place in Jessica's new life.