day after day i just keep seeing myself scrunched up in a corner of that dorm room in White Cottage, on my bed in between the windows. My unwashed sheets wrinkled underneath, dabbled with stains and wet with tears. The very first place where I had truly felt isolation. I would hear him coming up from the path, whistling. I would feel a pang of pain in my chest, a pain so meaningless I'd rather pretend to not have lived through that part of my life at all.