She slides the dull dirty coloured strap of the bra she hasn’t taken off since he last touched her back on to her cold blue shoulder, she shivers at her own touch and feels the impulse to gag rise up her parched prickling throat. God how she sickens herself. Her head is against the cold chipped bathroom tiles and a small puddle of spit is drying on her flushed cheek, the bulb dies above her head and her tiny world goes dark only for a few seconds as her faded eyes grow accustomed to the glow from the friendly moon, she acknowledges her gaze, rolling onto her side and salutes her with a solitary tear, Folding in on herself like a paper swan.

Downstairs the plates smash and cupboard door slams shut against an arm? A face? The bang all sounds the same in this happy home. Rising voices crawl up beneath the floor and it's always the same voice over and over and over. The moon takes pity on this nobody girl and encourages her to crawl out of this mess, wipe her swollen eyes and breathe. She leans up on her bruised elbow and flicks the lock on the door, with her other hand she picks out a cigarette and puts it to her dry pink lips. Her nails scramble against the floor searching out for a lighter; a sigh breaks free as her cold fingers close around it. Bear in mind she would much rather drink but in this condition it wouldn't be wise, Nobody girl needs to be in control, calm, this way it can't get any worse for her right?

She leans against the dull imitation marble sink and lights up. This sink is a mockery she thinks, just like me. Fake, looks like it's supposed to but if you knock it in the wrong places it's as fragile as an insect’s wing and will crumble into your lap. The disease fills her lungs but its ok as she starts to find her centre as she picks at the scabs on her legs and dabs the blood with a wet fingertip, she runs the finger against her lip and tastes the bitter acrid taste of her insides. The bra strap falls loose again and she realises just how much she misses the simple things, his fingers, his gaze, the ability he has to make her forget. He is the sweetest distraction... but not this time.

She finishes the cigarette and stubs it out on the 'sink', sliding back down to the floor, her hair matted from too many nights spent not sleeping in her cold, filthy bed, and she wakes up and gets up only to go back again alone. Always alone is nobody's girl, the room is black as even the moon has left her side. The voices still as loud as before, at least these will never leave her she laughs, rolls over and disintegrates just a little. This paper swan is old, tired and worn from having to open herself only to be left vulnerable and torn. You would think after so many years this girl would learn, yes? But no. You do crazy things sometimes when your alone, sometimes you do things just for one moment of been with someone in whatever way that may mean.