“WAKE UP SETH” my large stepmom shouted. After my macabre accident I got a stepmom, yup I got adopted and was in a care home for a couple of years. But you guys reading don’t need to know much about my life in the care home, I can literally sum it all up in seven words, blood, tears and a whole lot of shouting. So I get up, very tired, you know it’s very hard sleeping when you have no nose, you have to breathe through your mouth. Even though it’s been a long time since my nose was cut off, I still can’t get used to the awkward feeling when I sleep and not to forget the thumping I occasionally get in my battered head. I’m not masochistic, but I enjoy picking on my broken lips and nose, I like the rough feeling, it hurts but yeah……
My stepmom smacks me hard across my head.
“Ah!” I scream, I see black spots dancing around through my eyes, I snap my head up and run into the toilet. I sit on the rusty toilet seat and bawl my eyes out, “Why me? What did I do to deserve this?” I silently plead. I usually don’t cry but today it triggered something in my head. All that emotion that was locked inside me just came out today. After 10 minutes of crying, I got up and looked at myself in the mirror, the long scar that comes down to my nose and then abruptly stops, then nothing, you see nothing. I can’t go out in public, people just ignore me, i can’t do anything, I can’t smell the acidity of lemon, the rich smell of brownies and the great smell of fish and chips. I can’t smell the saltiness of the sea. There is nothing I can do about it, the doctors have given up on me and the teacher’s eyes slide past my desk. My stepparents are horrible to me, like I’m there personal slave, I can’t even go home and say to myself “what a horrible day at school, well at least mum will look after me.” They are always torturing me, hurting me. My cheeks hollow, the colour under my eyes pitch black, I am no longer the boy I was before.