Chapter 6
Exhausted and tired, I drag my feet over the science room threshold, cursing the bright light of the day.
I was relieved to wake up in my own bed this morning.
My room was cold but tidy, clear of any broken glass. Sheets of thick and milky plastic stretch over the gaping holes in my window. A few plasters over my hands and the plastic on the windows are the only reminders of yesterday.
The staff pleaded with me to stay home today, but I’m too afraid to be on my own.
The rest of last night is like an old, faded and then badly assembled video montage of darkness and occasional lucid moments.
I remember the cool hands and the soft voice of a kind doctor and the word ‘hospital’, which set the panic into me, which only a child subjected to so many hospitals would understand. I r
