And the tears stream only out the corner of one eye because I lay on my side clenching my midsection. The green and white striped pillow hard beneath my head slowly soaks and even after my hair is done sticking to my face and the pillow is finally dry because my tear ducts are worn out, the salt residue is still there enough to awaken the suppressed reasons the tears were flowing in the first place. And after crying until nearly hacking up my insides and going through an entire box of kleenex (the 'BONUS' box, mind you), I fall asleep. I never figured out whether it was from complete exhaustion of my body or mind. Or maybe, some higher power finally had enough mercy on me to grant my wish of painless, blackened oblivion I call sleep. Only to wake up three hours later to attend a session at school on a Saturday. For ONCE, I didn't mind listening to bad teachers (make an attempt at) teaching a subject I'm very weak in. Allowing my mind to desperately try and grasp the information I need, like sea anemone desperately flailing in the ocean currents trying to get any little particles to stick. Keeping myself from torturing my poor little brain with harsh thoughts. But when I finally find the solace of my room, I proceed to step on the bloody kleenex of the night before. And I know it was blood and I know it was real because 'real blood turns brown when it dries.' And that just breaks my heart because I now have hard evidence that I'm (literally) dying inside...