She knows her parents are fighting. She knows that, behind closed doors, her name was being spat to the other like a curse that would never leave. She doesn't blame them. She knows she's a curse. She just wishes she doesn't have to be reminded of it everyday.

"Why are momma and dada fighting?" her little brother asks, looking up at her with his big eyes full of wonder. And how could she ever dare to be the one to remove that?

So, all she replied with is , "I don't know." She  crouched and gathered him up in her arms, pulling him close and letting a tear or two leave her eyes. She sighs as the warmth of the hug seeps into her.

How could she ever tell him it's her fault? She couldn't. She loves him too much to do that.

Later, as she listens to music in the bathroom after she finishes pushes a finger down her throat and puking out all her food, she thinks about her incredible loneliness. She knows she did this to herself but she can't stop. Something in her even stopped believing it's wrong. It's just something she does. She just doesn't like eating and she pukes everyday. It isn't wrong.

She alright. She's fine. There's nothing wrong with her.

I'm fine. I'm good. It's all good
It's just short term. I'll stop soon
Maybe one day I'll stop feeding myself lies.
It's all gonna come out anyway.