It's a peice of my mask.

My hands fling to my mouth as I feel in the dark my mask. All the dents and scratches. Then the tiny piece that got chipped off. It's on the side of my mask, nowhere near my mouth, but I can't stop smiling. It's gone. My mask can get destroyed. I can finaly be free!

I stand on my two feet and cling on to the rusted metal raling. I'm going to be free!

A wave of nausea hits me and I crunch down still holding the rusty railing. My breaths are labored and low. My head is telling me to lay down and so I let go and try to lay down in the fetal position on one of the steps.

I know what's going to happen. I'm going to throw up.

It all happens so quickly and yet not. The little amount of food I ate this morning and in lunch comes up to my clenched mouth. It stays there for a bit until I finally swallow it back down.

I hate when that happens. It's disgusting. I can't let it leave my mouth or it wil get all over my face and then it will never leave.

I close my eyes once again and happily drift into unconsciousness leaving that horrid experience in the back of my brain.

I blink my eyes open and see that I am still laying on the concrete stairs. I sit in there for what seems like hours, but it's probably less. All I do is sit there and think; not a word comes out of my masked mouth.

The door flings open and I continue to look down, ignoring the man who stomps down to get me. I wait for Father to drag me upstairs.

After all the times he's done this, I'm numb to the neglect and starvation that he puts me through. A smile is hidden by my mask as I continue to stare at the metal hidden in my hand.

Father's footsteps stomp down then stop.

Father's boot kicks me in the back. I gasp as my hands hit the wood floor; I can feel the splinters stab my palms.