As I walked down the hallway, the sound of my footsteps seemed unusually loud, each tap echoing the pain in my hip. I felt a wave of tiredness washing over me, the effects of Saturday’s chemotherapy still lingering. I attempted to act normal, but could the strain around my eyes give away my weariness? Was the faint smell of the hospital still lingering on me?
Today, I focused on feeling cozy - I wore a comfy, light grey sweatshirt with black leggings, paired with worn-out white high tops. My usually long, ash-blonde hair was tucked under a black beanie, a reminder of my ongoing treatment. The small ‘S’ pendant on my silver necklace seemed oddly out of place against my skin.
“Well, if it isn’t the human embodiment of disappointment,” Tahni’s voice, dripping with venom, sliced through the
