I see a hand (mine?) and it is red
And the window is broken.
And glass is on the floor. Why?
NO!
I scream and I pick up the phone
And I hurl it across the room
And it crashes to the floor.
No footsteps.
No help.
No one.
And I throw myself onto the bed and cry.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
Ryalynn
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