Stacey sat huddled behind her bed with the lights off, her arms around her knees. Next to her sat a small potted plant with a few blood stains on the rim of the pot.
I just need to keep quiet a little longer . . . they'll leave, I know they will. She glanced down at the plant, and cried even more, whimpering. How could I do this to you, Phillip? I said I loved you, and now I've thrown it all away. She reached out, and ran her finger along one of the leaves of the plant. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, feeling a rush. I've hidden you for so long; why do you do this to me now?
Her cellphone rang, and her heart nearly burst. She fumbled in her pockets to answer it, bringing it close to her face.
"Yeah? What is it?" As she listened to the voice on the phone, her face lost much of its pallor. "Alright, I'll meet you. Yeah, that's fine."
Stacey swiped off her phone, and sat back against the wall. Suddenly, she wanted to see her mother, no matter how mean and distant she usually was. She was backed into a corner, and never felt more alone.