Writing

“i hate you”

“leave me alone”

“i don't wanna see your face”

you hate the way i turn off your light when you focus

or continually walk by your room until you notice

I stared at the chains for a long moment.

They were thicker up close—layered metal, cold and ugly, dug deep enough into her scales that the edges were dark with dried blood. My stomach twisted.

What do I want to be when I get older? 

It’s only a matter of time before I’m an adult and on my own. 

But what profession will I have? 

How will I do on my own? 

Will it all be okay? 

“Of course I left my phone at home.”

I told my mom I was going to school.

I gave a long exhale “finally they’re done bickering” I thought 
 

I turned, “alright, class is—”

“Ryder” grunted Juniper “you keep avoiding my question”