Playtime

Day 1.
ADEMA // TRUST


Hurt you slowly but so surely
I don't know why, love you so much
I can't feel because I'm lost
Not to much matters no more-

My hair was matted with vomit. Vomit when your body finds something it doesn't like. Food. My body rejected food like a child to 'bedtime', like Christians to the Big Bang theory.
I sat back against the toilet stall wall and sighed. My mouth tasted of bitter school canteen lunch and I coughed, shooting my hand across my mouth to stop me from retching again. I groaned and closed my eyes, taking deep breath. I felt on the dirty floor for my headphone and pushed it gently back into my ear to block out the sound of girls gossiping in their high-pitched voices.
People can hear voices in their head, but isn't that talking to yourself? No. Unwanted voices. Voices telling them things. Do this, do that, no stop! Don't! Like a radio talk-show, but broken up and undecipherable.
Safe. I was safe within the walls of the stall. The lock on the door was my barrier to the outside. No one could get in, not unless I unlocked the door. I wouldn't. Not now, when they're gone. When who's gone? Them. They. Those people. But the voices are already inside your head. Shut up.
I retched and aimed for the toilet again, then slumped back against the wall. The gossiping had stopped; whispering. I hated whispering. Whispering meant secrets, lies, slander. Footsteps, light, cautious. Closer, closer, clos-
Knock knock.
“Hello..? Who's in there? Are you alright?” dripping with fake concern.
Fuck off. I groaned, inaudible. They can't hear, they choose not to.
“Go and get the principal!” the voice squealed excitedly. Drama, they crave drama, attention, praise, love, honor.
They'll beat the door down, drag me out, away, to a hospital, call my step-father. No. Go away, shut up, fuck off. I closed my eyes tight and pleaded with myself to wake up. This isn't a dream. Shut up!
Knock knock.
“This is the principal. Who is in there?” bastard. No one's in here, you're imagining things you junked up faggot.
He muttered something and then-
Bang bang bang.
They were breaking down my barrier. No no no. Stop, for your own good. Stop now. Stop while you can. Stop. I bit my lip hard and braced myself.
The door swung open and I heard a girl screech when she saw me.
“Oh God...” junked up bastard. He said it almost as if he was ashamed of me. Only parents have the right to be ashamed. I don't know you, you don't know me. Let's keep it like than, pivot and pretend you never saw me.
He crouched down and touched my leg. Don't fucking touch me. I hate being touched, doesn't it say that on my file? I thought it did.
“Morgan Miller? Morgan?” he shook me gently. Play dead. I didn't move. This was never supposed to happen. Fuck, shit, fuck. I cannot go to the hospital. I don't want to. I can't.
“What do you want?” I snapped. Idiot.
The principal cleared his throat. What for? The stench of me, the presence of me. “We talked about this, didn't we? You said you'd stop.”
Some teachers walked in then, including my best friend Rob. He was a good friend of mine, I'd make eye contact with him, but with no one else, because that would mean I would be trapped.
I am drama. My middle name is drama-tragic-life. Not really. It's something stupid. No it's not; it's my mother's name. Lilly. Morgan Lilly Miller, not nice to meet you.
He shook me again, this time I reacted. I shot my leg out and kicked him. Good. What? He deserved it. Habit, no, reaction. Keep telling yourself that. I will.
Rob came over. He mumbled something to the teachers including the principal and they all left.
I sighed. Exhaled. Released a tense, nervous breath. I kept my eyes on the floor and my knees up level with my shoulders.
He took my arm gently; I tensed. He led me over to one of the basins and made me duck my head into it. He turned the warm tap on and rinsed my hair out for me. It came just above my shoulders, I hated things on my shoulders, but the weight of the world still rested comfortably there. It was red, or ginger. But that doesn't sound attractive, so we say red. I am a redhead. He gently finished rinsing and I shook my head out.
I sank back down onto the floor and bit my lip. He sat down beside me.
“Morgan” he said.
“Rob” I whispered. Hypocrite. Shut the fuck up.
“Why?”
“He.. he..” I bit the inside of my cheek to force the tears back.
“It's okay, I know what you mean” he pulled my head onto his lap and I began sobbing.
I'm so alone, empty and lost, it's easier to let you go
Time will erode the shame and the fault, it's easier to let you go-


Day 2.
GARBAGE // BLEED LIKE ME


Avalanche is sullen and too thin
She starves herself to rid herself of sin
And the kick is so divine when she sees bones beneath her skin

We must have been there for an hour or too, because when I woke up, it was dawn and I was in Rob's bed. The teachers must have let him take me home. Home. This wasn't my home. I have no home. Home is where your family is. I have no family. Mom...
I turned over and realised I was wearing fresh underwear and one of Rob's band t-shirts.
“Whoa whoa whoa, sweetie. No moving” Rob came rushing over from his Xbox. I squinted. He had friends over, Tom and Corey. They were both staring at me and I buried my head in Rob's quilt. I hated people; people I didn't know. Strangers.
“Hey hey, Morg. You alright? You awake? Shhh.. It's okay” Rob soothed. He sat down beside me on the bed. I reached out for him and gripped his arm. He stroked mine gently, then I pulled it back under the quilt.
The scars. Well done. Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!
“Morgan, I've seen them. It's fine. We'll just forget” he whispered softly in my ear. I relaxed, as much as a kid with paranoia could.
“Tell me what he did Morgan, exactly what he did” Rob stroked my freshly washed soft hair and I laid my head in his lap.
“I don't.. yesterday? No..” I didn't know what day it was. I was confused. No, I was vulnerable when I was confused. I started crying again. Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby.
“I fount you in the school toilets yesterday afternoon” he explained.
“Then.. the day before that. I went home.. and he.. my s-step-father.. he..”
Rob kissed my forehead and I flinched. Twitched. No injury. Just a kiss.
“He grabbed my hair.. and then.. threw me to the floor. He'd had a call at work that I wasn't in school. Then he kicked me.. and called me stuff.. slut, fat, pathetic, bitch, worthless.. you know. Then he blamed me for mom..” I trailed off.
He didn't move; he was thinking. Think. I can't think. If I think the voices will talk. I hate them. I get headaches.
He subconsciously traced my visible ribs with his finger as he thought, eyes void of feeling.