~~~AN: I will be updating every week, I'm sorry there has been such a large gap in between this update and the last, but unfortuante circumstances relating to my clumsiness and angst led to a prevention of my updates. I am aiming to get on some kind of schedule~~~

"How did you get that scratch on your cheek, honey?" Dad asks almost immediately when I open the front door of our apartment. I try to cover it with my hair, but when he emerges from the kitchen to give me a hug, he sees it.

"I... ugh...the trees at the school entrance decided to... um bash into me when I walked into them?" I nervously unconvincingly suggest.

"Well I can believe that, you little klutz," he laughs, smoothing down my wavy hair.

"Obviously," I smile, "where's Mum?"

"At the shops, buying food for dinner," he replies, "then she has her night shift."

He releases with a sad look in his eyes.

"Has she slept?" I ask, slightly worried.

"5 hours this morning," he sighs.

I nod and drop my bag off in my tiny study past the table. I kick off my shoes by the rack at the door. I know that if I told Dad the truth about Klaer and her bullying he'd start a riot. I don't want help with anything. I don't want the hindrance of others. And as selfish as this sounds, I want to do this on my own.

As I walk into the kitchen to get some water, Dad gives me a tube of paw paw, "Your mother will freak if she found out I didn't give you anything for that scratch, especially that I have more time on my hands now!"

I rub the soothing tonic on my cheek. Mum has been freaking out over everything lately. She is having one of her 'moments'. They usually only last a week, but those seven days are particularly difficult for her and everyone in her way.

I've done the calculations and Mum has these 'moments' four times a year, approximately one every three months. You can tell it's that time of the year when she stops eating, sleeping at the right times and breathing properly, or the way she does these things have noticeably changed.

For example, mum has been hyperventilating recently. She now carries a paper bag around with her just in case. She's gone all health-guru too. Making us go vegetarian and eat lots of couscous, kale, quinoa and tofu.

She has the need to do everything herself. The shopping, cleaning, driving, feeding our gold fish, Hyperbole (don't ask how that name came to be) ... and that's just at home. She works at Princess Margaret Hospital in Perth City and each night or morning, after her shift, she brings home mountains of papers and forms to fill out independently.

Dad works from home when mum is like this, for extra support and love. My parents are truly a match made in heaven. But in all perfectness and beauty, there is a hidden hideousness or imperfection that contradicts it.

"You got much homework, Tria?" Dad asks, as I gulp down water.

"Just maths and biology," I reply quickly. Dad shoves a small mandarin into my palm.

"Do I have to eat?" I sigh, knowing I was physically hungry but mentally and emotionally full.

"Yes," he orders, putting the paw paw away in the cupboard.

I huff and grab my books from my bag in the study and head to my room, kicking the chair by my desk in frustration. I place the mandarin on my window sill and stare at the world below me. We live in a prestigious apartment block in the buzzing Perth city. We live on the 11th floor. Our neighbours are mainly employed people who work in the city, coming home late and leaving early. Each apartment is identical in layout and reversed where necessary. Here is a floor plan of our block:

I don't have any siblings. After Mum had me, she got a disease which limited and eventually cease her ability to produce eggs and therefore have any more children. She never told me the details, because she gets extremely sensitive about the topic. It is what provoked her 'moments'. I'm not spoilt to brim of snobbiness, but Mum and Dad do treat me from time to time because they say I'm a 'gift'.

Cars are rushing back and forth all around the city, rush hour has nearly arrived. A brilliant view is supplied for me hear. I can see the glistening Swan River in the distance and Kings Park on top of the infamous hill. It is superior to me, superior to the employees and citizens od the city... and superior to Klaer.

I flop on my bed, ignoring my mandarins and homework. Both Klaer and Mianna's words echoed through my mind and haunt me.

I said yes. There is no escaping now. But who? Who will I ask to give Klaer's behind a good kick? ... If I ask the individual I thought of in the train, will he truly say yes? If I asked Darrin, Mianna's crush and arguably the smartest boy in our grade (Clarke and Darrin and thick and thin about this), she'd kill me.

I don't even want to consider dating to guys in Klaer's status group. They were incredibly arrogant and every second that escaped their mouths were some form of profanity. They all have girlfriends anyway, but they changed every few days, or if they are lucky, every fortnight. One of them, Ricky Harvard, dated Lexi Franz for half an hour. Now she calls him her 'ex' and the relationship was even legitimate.

My door creaks like it always does when it moves and Mum strolls in. I didn't even hear her come home, she's silent and stealthy as always. She places a mandarin on my window sill, along with all the other abandoned fruits. I glance at her for a moment as she begins to leave with a sad smile.

I sit up in one swift movement, "Mum?"

She stops at the door, fingers trailing on the handle, "Sweetie?"

"Are you okay?"

She nods unconvincingly and heads out the door, "Come help me unpack the groceries."

I frown, look at my row of mandarins and follow suit, leaving my homework untouched on my bed. When I reach the kitchen, Mum briefly touches the scratch on my cheek, sticky from the paw paw. She turns away and puts the kale and greek yoghurt in the fridge.

I empty a whole bag of mandarins in the fruit bowl, wincing. Mum hands me a packet of rice, quinoa, other eccentric spices and roasted almonds and I carefully find a place for them in the pantry.

"I bought some chocolate," Mum announces, braking the usual silence.

She hands the packet of 90% cocoa dark chocolate and I can smell the bitterness. My lips go thin.

"Thanks," I lie, knowing I wouldn't eat it.

"H-how was school?" she asks quietly.

"As good as it could be," I lie through my teeth, my head going light.

Once the kitchen had been cleaned up Mum sits down and stares at the blank television.

"Your father said you walked into a tree."

I turn to her, as she has caught me making my way to my room, "Yeah, when I got to school this morning."

The lies just keep on coming.

She blinks at me, her head turning to the side, "Looks fresh."

She saw straight through my lie. Damn her and her nurse skills. She narrows her eyes at me, fixing me a contemptuos glare,  "Are you cutting yourself?"

My eyes grow wide, I take a step back, a single shiver running down my spine and the scratch suddenly hurting, "No! No! Why would you say that? I'm not like that! I simply got scratched by a tree branch and I can't remember when."

Klaer's hand comes into view again, her long deep purple and silver sparkled manicured nails piercing into my skin all over again.

Mum doesn't take it, but stands up and heads to her room to change into her scrubs. I remain frozen for a moment, clutching my cheek. Mum's 'moments' were changing her mentally too, and therefore how she acts socially.

Before I felt worthless again, I escape into my bedroom, shut the door, squeak and all. Sliding, down onto the floor, I bury my face in my hands, a single tear sliding down my cheek, stinging the scratch. Her words echoed in my mind. I take a deep breath, and look up, out the window. The mandarins are still on the window sill, I don't know how they would move anyway.

My phone pings.

I take it out of my pocket and scroll to my most recent notification.

Mi: so who's it gonna be?

Tria: u will have to wait n see