"And this is my room," Vick says, opening the door. I look around, curious.
The walls are painted medium green – it's been so long since I've seen anything so green. Apart from the pine forest outside the window, and that's a darker green. Scarier.
Vick sits down on his bed – a red, white and black checked cover on it. I sit next to him, wincing at the sudden ache in my legs. "Mom's going to have fun feeding you up," he remarks, putting an arm around my shoulders.
At that, tears start pooling in my eyes again. He turns to me, pulls me into his arms again. "Sorry, that was careless."
Reassured by his apology, I let the sobs spill out, my thin shoulders shaking uncontrollably. He doesn't say anything more, just lets me cry, stroking the ends of hair that is left on my head.
I stand in front of the mirror, staring at myself.
Grotesque. I am grotesque. Skinny, ugly, scarred.
Shorn red hair. Bits of it longer than others.
Haunted blue eyes.
They did this to me. Just because I tried to stand up for what is right.