"And you're saying that these bruises are from falling, right? You're stupid?"

Your rather close friend Natasha is asking you.

She gently smears peroxide on your cheek, and you hiss in pain, not knowing whether to cry or laugh.

The hospital room is cozy. The old light bulb is shining dimly, but you don't really care about that. Your condition is pretty bad right now.

"How can you let your parents treat you like this because of ordinary grades?"

The girl suddenly turns the topic to a more serious one and grabs your face in her hands, looking for wounds.

The smile suddenly disappears from your lips.

Your parents are strict people. You can get a lot of pain for every mistake, because you're in your senior year, they want a good future for you. But will you have it at all? Your ancestors have corrupted your psyche as much as possible.

"You're staying with me today. Refusals are not accepted. They've exhausted you completely."

Natasha sighs and finally lets you go, sitting down on the chair opposite.

She's very worried about you, even if it's not very visible.

A nurse will be able to take care of you, unlike those who call themselves your parents.