𝟬𝟰. supercut

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𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗙𝗼𝘂𝗿

in your car the radio up,we keep tryin' to talk about us

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in your car the radio up,
we keep tryin' to talk about us.

          IT WAS THE FIRST DAY BACK from winter break and Mia had been dreading it, especially after getting her break stolen from her by her parents

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          IT WAS THE FIRST DAY BACK from winter break and Mia had been dreading it, especially after getting her break stolen from her by her parents. The past few days had been alright for her. She had felt normal for the first time in weeks, which in retrospect wasn't necessarily the best thing when it came to Mia.

And I think she understood that when she woke up that morning— It was like something had switched, and then she realized she hadn't been taking her medication, nor has she had a full meal in days, not since both of her parents had gone back to work and she was back to being in charge of herself.

Mia could feel her nerves, her palms were sweaty and her leg bounced up and down over and over again. She was still at home waiting for her parents to give her the okay to go to school. They need to see her plate, the trash is hidden and all the restroom doors are locked, they also know that the garbage disposal is loud.

She feels like she has to throw up— not in that way.

"Mom!" She yells, pushing the empty plate away from her, "I'm done, can I go now? I don't want to be late!"

School is the last place she feels like going to, but it's getting her out of the house that she's grown to dislike. Her eyes glanced at her living room where she had fainted only a couple weeks ago. Her stomach felt even more queasy, and she could feel the tears threatening to spill but she held them in with everything she had in her.

Her parents walked down the stairs, they looked tired and she felt bad. Her parents hardly sleep these days, they're scared of what she might do while their minds are somewhere else and they know that their minds have been elsewhere in their work.

"That's all of it?" Her mother asks, picking up the plate and glancing around the kitchen.

Mia nods, "Yes all of it."

Her parents both look at each other, they're deciding if she's telling the truth. She is.

"Here's your keys Mia, but right after school it's straight home." Her father says handing her the keys she hasn't touched in weeks.

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