# 1 I N B U L L Y I N G
#1 I N H O R R O R
# 1 I N D O M E S T I C V I O L E N C E
# 1 I N A N T I - B U L L Y I N G
# 1 I N R A I S E A W A R E N E S S
(highest ranks)
CLARK, OLIVIA
15/02/2000
DD/MM/YY
TRENT, ALESSIA
28...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I had my first physiotherapy appointment later that day, and despite my mum's concerns, it seemed as though it may only take me a short while to get back up and running again. After all, the stab wound was to my chest, meaning that my limbs were fine; it just hurt to stretch sometimes.
I was back in my bed now, per my mum's instruction, and she promised me that my dinner would be coming soon.
"And so there were loads of letters, flowers, comments on your friends' Instagram for you. You should have seen them all, Olivia." My mum laughed, trying to catch me up on what I had missed.
In reality, I had only missed a month, which made it October 25th. But in my head, I had lost over half a year. I felt so out of tune and out of practice; it was as though I was discovering how to be myself again.
"Can't I still see them now?" I asked her, focusing on whatever she was rambling about at that moment.
She grimaced, pursing her lips, "I guess, just not yet, Livvy."
I sighed into my cushions—which were not as comfy as they sound. Suddenly, someone rapped at the door.
"Ah," my mum announced, "that must be your food." I frowned, glancing between my mum and the door.
She stood up, opening the door and saying, "Shaun." After a polite nod of her head, she smiled over at me before slipping out of the door. I frowned after her until I spotted who was at the door. My dad.
My dad closed the door behind him as I jolted upwards, exclaiming, "Dad!"
He laughed, setting a tray down on the table over my bed before pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Hi, Greeny." Greeny was nothing but a mocking nickname; something from my childhood that my dad liked to make fun of me for.
I beamed up at him as he took his seat, passing me some cutlery. I pushed myself up slightly before digging in.
"Aren't you going to eat something?" I asked him, halfway through my lasagna.
He smiled, shaking his head, "I already ate, Liv."
I nodded, continuing to eat, though frowned over at my dad as he fell into silence.
I groaned. "You've got that same look," I complained, wiping at my mouth with a napkin.
He rose an eyebrow, "What look?"
"The one that mum keeps giving me. The one that's as if her daughter has just turned to gold dust and will earn her millions." I described, making my dad laugh.
"Well, that would be nice too," After I threw him a sharp look, he continued, "you almost died, Olivia, I think we get the right to be a little emotional." He explained.
It was then my turn to fall quiet. "Mum said that there was loads of support for me whilst I was in the coma—what were you guys doing whilst I was...asleep?"
