It was 3:47 am, I clutched my stomach as I threw up into the toilet. I didn't understand how I could be throwing up so much, I hadn't eaten in days. The toilet flushed and washed the vomit off my hands. I lent over the sink and looked at my reflection in the mirror and a zombie looked back at me. His pale skin covered in scabs and scars from his itchy blood. He had dark circles under his brown eyes and his cheeks were sunken. He seemed unhealthily skinny. His hair a black greasy mess. He had the look. The look the footy boys teased him for. The heroin addict look.
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Teen FictionShe was angry, she had been ever since she found the syringe at the back of my bookshelf.
