At the end of the day, I literally grabbed my bag and sprinted as fast as I could to catch the subway down to Grand Central, saying a quick goodbye to Conor and leaving him sputtering as I ran out the door. As I went down the streets, all I could think of was the blue eyes that burned holes through my back as I left C 21. Once I arrived at Grand Central, I quickly went to the bathroom and changed into my red white and blue outfit. I ran into Sweet on America just in time for my shift. I smiled at Sally, who was my boss.

She smiled at me and asked me how my day was. Sally was really nice: I still can't believe that she gave me this job. She told me that I looked like her son and that I had integrity. And I really did not want to make her regret hiring me by being late.

"So how are you liking New York so far?" she asked me.

"Well," I said as I absentmindedly restocked the shelves. "I love it. I haven't really had enough time to see anything, but I love the atmosphere. It makes you want to work harder." She laughed.

"Sweetie, you're going to run yourself to the ground with that mentality. Relax. I'm sure your parents don't like you running around the city." I dropped the packages of taffy I was stacking.

"They don't care," I muttered. And it was true: my mom was in Narragansett doing god know what with her inheritance money and my father, well my father was out of the picture. My mom was probably too drunk to ever find out his name. The stepdad… I don't even want to go there.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude-" she said.

"It's fine, don't worry about it Miss Sally."

"Just Sally is fine, dear." She said kindly. After a couple minutes of companionable silence, she began to pack her things. "Well, my shift is over. Will you be okay operating the shop yourself?" She asked me. I nodded.

"I'll be fine. I can take care of myself," I replied. She stopped in front of me.

"You're so much like Percy," she said. "Next time he comes from school I have to introduce you two." I smiled. Percy was Sally's son: he and her were really close. I wished I had a mom like that, I thought enviously Then, I don't know what came over me. I threw my arms around her in a big hug. She's been my most supporting figure here. And for that I was so grateful. She immediately responded by pulling me in closer.

"Thank you Miss Sally," I said. She patted my cheek clumsily, smiling.

"It's nothing, sweetie." She replied. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" I nodded. And she left me alone with the saltwater taffy and the lingering smell flowery perfume.

Since the amount of customers decreased. , I quickly finished and closed the place up. I put the key in the shared locker of Sweet on America. I took all of the tips I got and took the subway to the upper east side, snagging some of my favorite blue raspberry rings on the way out.

I went to my rented walkup and plopped down on my ancient foldout couch/bed. The lady who lived here (apparently she graduated NYU and wanted an upgrade) gave me a really cheap price for the apartment, which I loved. It was just a studio size, but it was all I needed. The lady graduated in marine bio with a minor in photography, so naturally she had life size murals posted around the whole room. They were all ocean themed, so it made me feel sorta at home. The room even smelled like the sea: maybe she had some weird perfume thing. Whatever it was, I liked it. After changing into my paper thin pajama pants and taking a quick shower (I tried to use as little water as possible), I passed out on the bed, grateful that I did all my homework during lunch.

The days raced by, and soon April was fading into May. My SAT scores came back: straight 790's. My heart soared: with these scores, I could probably get into any school I wanted. But it wasn't just the possibilities of school that made my heartbeat escalate: it was Conor.

There was a day when I didn't get enough tips for a ticket on the subway. I was texting Conor, just ranting to him, on the walk home. He showed up out of nowhere at the east 47th and Lexington intersection to walk me home. He did his homework with me in the Library, and he told me about his dyslexia. I sympathized with him: I had dyslexia and ADHD as a kid. But I somehow grew out of it when I got into high school.

Everything was perfect. Which was what got me off guard. Nothing was perfect. Ever. And that was when the nightmares began again.

I was curled up in fetal position in the corner of my old living room. I was shielding my face with my arms. I looked at them: they were black and blue, and cuts crisscrossed all over my skin. I touched my forehead and felt a warm liquid on my fingers. I brought my hand down to my eyesight. My fingers glimmered with my own blood. A single tear fell down my cheek.

"How dare you cry!" A voice screamed at me. "You don't deserve to exist, you ungrateful, good-for-nothing child! You're too weak! You deserve nothing." I felt the ground tremor as the man walked away. Then I heard something hit the wall behind me. I once again ducked my head. When I opened my eyes again, hundreds of shards of glass twinkled all around me. I looked at my reflection in one of them. My face was all swollen and black. I could barely recognize myself. I woke up in a cold sweat, screaming hysterically.

The day after the nightmare, I tried my best to put myself together again. But everytime I looked at my arm, or my reflection in the mirror, all I could think of was how weak I was. So I did what I did best: I avoided the pain.

I ran everyday in the night after my shift. I did chin-ups in the apartment. Slowly but surely, I felt myself get stronger. But all of that strength vanished as soon as my eyes closed and I succumbed to the darkness that was sleep.