Crushed

You can crush anything that you find fragile....except for me.

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1. One and only

 It was late on Sunday night.

 I was asleep after a good dinner of chips and bacon, sleeping in the warm cosy bed my body had suffocated for years. My father stayed up, lingering up around the phone until a very mysterious phone call at 11:47 pm.

 He chuckled loudly. I listened to every word. He was happy, laughing and whispering deeply into the phone. I tiptoed across the landing into my mother's bedroom, careful not to be seen by my father.

 She wasn't there. My eyes flashed across the room, wondering where she was.

 The toilet? No, it was empty.

 The lounge? No, she would be watching TV.

 The kitchen? Wait, what would she do in the kitchen at this time?

 My head swirled around for the door, but I bumped into someone large and tall.

 "Looking for something?" asked the familiar voice of my father. I looked up at his face. It was different - a flushed red with multiplying wrinkles, a smile that made my blood curl.

 "No," I said quickly, without hesitating.

 "Good," he said. He crouched down and I could make out every spot on his face with the distance he was to me. His smile sharply turned into a frown, and I froze inside my skeleton. "You know, little 8 year old girls who wander around at night don't really survive until the morning. Especially in this situation."

 I was too young to figure out what he meant. Still, I ran to my room and tucked under the covers, pulling the blanket over me. I heard the click of many doors before I went to sleep. Sure, I made it to the morning.

 I didn't see him since.

 

 I lived in the little house for almost a week, telling myself that my father would come back. But then I realised - where was my mother? School was completely irrelavent to me, staying frozen on my bed for hours on end with a blanket wrapped around me

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