i bite my lip. pain floods through my vains, coming from the now raw skin on the back of my thighs.
i always try to wear really loose jeans so the denim doesn't completely destroy the slashes on my thighs.
today, all that were clean were skinny jeans.
i hobble as inconspicuously as possible into the store and grab a small push-around cart.
quickly, i check to make sure the money mother gave me is still in my pocket. anxiety flows through me extremely fast when i don't find it in any of my pockets.
a sense of relief washes over me as i realise that i tucked it below the sole of my shoe so i would drop it or get pickpocketed.
YOU ARE READING
scream
General Fictioni scream for help, but no one can hear me in this place. i want to close my eyes and make this all disappear, but that's only for little fairytales. and life is no child's book.
