It'd be so much easier just to ignore it all. Just to ignore the yells of my parents in the next room, the silent sobbing of my younger sister in her bed, the whining of the dog as he cowers in the corner after another belting from mum. I'd rather not be here at all. I'd rather ignore my own existence at the same time. To ignore that would mean I wasn't here; it would mean that this reality is just some horrible nightmare that I've conjured up for myself - which would mean that I could collapse it all as soon as I wanted to.
Unfortunately, this reality is true. Those are my parents arguing for the fifth time this week, that's my little sister wondering if it's her fault, that's my dog bleeding from his broken leg. And, unfortunately, I have to do something about it. I take a deep breath, ask the gods (if they do exist) for strength, and march over to my sister. She looks shocked as I wipe her tears and pack some of her things in her backpack. I do the same for myself - wipe