Sunday

I was trying to avoid thinking but it’s hit me now. Well Chell did actually. I know it was my fault. I was throwing things round the kitchen like a wild thing after she told me she’s leaving me too. Then she hit me and it hit me. Everything, the real, realness of it all. No escaping. Mum’s gone and she’s not coming back. Chell’s out of money. She’s going too. And I’m supposed to go. I think I just sank.
I’d been holding myself up until then by sheer force of will.
The mechanism gave way.
Chell cried after she hit me. But she’s still going.