I'm really not lying about this – I got no reviews for my last chapter, so found it incredibly hard to find the motivation to continue. If I go another chapter or two without reviews, I'll probably stop writing.

Disclaimer, and trigger warning.

XXXXXXX

Rachel slowly began to pack her bag for the Christmas break. She'd just finished handing out Christmas cards to her friends – the few of those that remained. In a moment of weakness, she had slipped one into Mercedes' bag – then fought to avoid crying in public when Mercedes clearly recognised her writing on the envelope and threw the card straight into the trash. She thought home had to be better than this.

Soon Rachel had a bag full of clothes and random textbooks – she didn't really care enough to check what assignments she actually had for the break. She walked into her en-suite to pack a few bathroom items, and couldn't help but be somewhat surprised by the number of paracetamol packets she had. Sure, she'd been taking them every now and again for her headaches – headaches which had started to become more and more frequent – and she'd bought more to replenish her supply. But she was pretty sure she hadn't bought this many… Rachel shook her head. It didn't matter.

After another half hour or so, her packing was finished. She dragged her bag down to the house lobby to wait for her Dads. She picked a sofa out of the way, sat down and began flicking aimlessly through a book. She ducked her head, letting her long, dark hair shield her from the rest of the room. And it worked. No one bothered her. Her phone suddenly began to ring, and Rachel hastily answered it.

"Hello?"

"Rachel, we're here! Are you all packed?"

"Yeah – I'll be out in just a second!"

"Okay, bye!"

Rachel slipped the phone back into her pocket with a slight smile. Her dads would always like her. They would never turn on her. And she had a whole four weeks to spend with them and no one else.

However, Rachel was regretting that thought less than 30 minutes later. Of course, her dads wanted to know all about her term, and she couldn't bring herself to tell them how horrible and lonely it had been. So she lied. And lied again. And again. It was exhausting; not only did she have to remember everything she had told them, she was also struggling to fabricate a life. She tried to remember the things people talked about at lunch and in classes, tried to remember what people did in their free time – heck, she struggled to remember what it was even like to have free time. And there was still more than two hours to go until they got home. Eventually she was just too tired.

"Dad, Daddy, I really do want to tell you all about school, but I'm just too tired right now. Last night…um…Mercedes and I were up really late talking. Is it okay if I sleep for the rest of the journey?"

Her parents agreed, and Rachel slipped in her headphones, drowning out the sound of their whispered conversations. She leant her head against the car's window and watched raindrops race down the outside, trying to persuade her tears not to join them.

The family finally arrived at their house, and slowly climbed out of the car, stretching stiff limbs. Rachel's Dad hoisted the strap of her bag over his shoulder and carried it up to her room, while her Daddy busied himself with boiling the kettle to make them all cups of coffee.

Rachel regained some of her normal energy after quickly draining her mug. With the caffeine flowing through her, she managed to come up with enough fabrication about the last term to satisfy her dads. She then headed upstairs to unpack.

By the time all her belongings were in their proper places, Rachel had realised how intensely lonely she was. At least there was constant background noise at school. And she could chat with a couple of her classmates when they passed in the corridor. In theory, she could talk to her dads – but she was terrified of slipping up and revealing a lie. And they absolutely could not know how miserable their perfect daughter was. She sat down on her bed and pulled out her phone. Rachel began to absentmindedly scroll through the contacts, wondering if there was anyone she could text. The list seemed to be made up of people who she didn't know well enough to randomly text, or people she assumed didn't want to talk to her. Rachel's heart suffered a particularly painful twinge as she scrolled past the "M"s. She soon came to the end of the list, and reversed the direction of the scroll. Her fingers came to a pause when she reached the "I"s. She and her ex-girlfriend hadn't parted on terrible terms…and they had always got on so well…

Before the logical side of her brain could talk her out of it, she tapped out a quick message.

"Hey, it's Rachel! Been feeling kinda in need of a friend recently, and wondered how you're doing?"

She hoped it didn't sound too needy, and resolutely pressed the send button.

Rachel spent a few minutes staring at the blank phone screen, hoping it would emit some sort of alert. She soon realised how pathetic that was, and had just slipped the device into her pocket when her dads called her down for dinner. Rachel hurried down the stairs, excited to eat something that hadn't been mass produced in a school cafeteria, and probably actually had some nutritional value. She only didn't eat at school because the food was horrible and she didn't have time. Or, at least, that was what she had persuaded herself to think.

Her mind almost changed as she stared at the meal in front of her. Vegetarian sausages and mashed potato with green beans made one of her favourite meals. Yet, somehow, she couldn't bring herself to take even a forkful. She'd been at the table for over ten minutes, and had merely pushed the food around, while talking enthusiastically so she didn't have to eat. She covertly rearranged the mashed potato so it looked like she had at least eaten some. She ate a few green beans, viciously repeating to herself "They're good for you. They're good for you. They're healthy, for god's sake!". A few minutes later, she decided she had eaten enough, and pushed her plate away.

"Is there something wrong with it, sweetie?" asked her Daddy.

"No, Daddy! I'm just not too hungry. You know, a big lunch." Rachel shot her parents a wide, almost believable smile, and hoped they didn't notice that she couldn't meet their eyes.

XXXXXXX

I hate that I'm begging for reviews…but I am. Otherwise I have literally no motivation to write more :( They also help me to not trash my entire dissertation and just hide in my bed for the remainder of this semester…