I can’t move my body. I’ve been laying on the kitchen floor for what feels like hours. The stone-cold floors almost soothe the aching of my body. I can’t stop shivering, yet I’m not cold. The shivering is so bad it feels like my insides are shaking. I taste blood. Something is running from my nose which I assumed was snot, but it must be where the blood is coming from. I’m just laying here as my blood drips in my mouth. Great! 

Time to get up! 

I still can’t move. Despite hearing steps coming towards the kitchen. I already know who it is, by the pounding of steps. My sister. She reaches for something in the cupboard, before coming towards me. She takes one big step over me and grabs something from the fridge, and out she goes. Like mother like daughter I guess. Utterly unbothered by the sight of bruises or blood. It must be an adult thing because my teachers seem just as unbothered. Or maybe the reason for this carelessness is that it’s me. I’m sure had it been anyone else people probably would have cared. 

I have to pee! 

Okay, honestly, it’s time to GET UP!

As the first drop of urine escapes me, an immediate fear comes upon me. They are gonna kill me when they see this, I have to get up and clean it before they see it. I have to get up. But I can still barely feel anything. I feel the dried blood under my nose, as well as the urine running down my thigh. But I can’t feel my body, I can’t move it! You have to get up! You have to get up! 

She enters the kitchen. 

I’m moving. 

I’m in the shower. 


I can’t move my body. 

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