Roses’s POV
Dream
I’m locked in the closet and I’m laying on the ground. I’m bleeding from a cut on my arm and my face is swollen from being hit. I’m in pain, but I’m used to it. The air is thick and hot. I’m staring at the light coming from underneath the door. I see a shadow move. I hold my breath in an attempt to go unnoticed by the person standing in front of the door. Is it my father? Has he come back to hit me again?
“Farrah.” I hear a whisper.
“Can you hear me? It’s Angelo.” I don’t make a sound. But he turns the knob and opens the door. Angelo is only a few years older than me.
“Here.” He holds out a bandage and some water to me. I move away from him, like a wounded animal. He moves into the closet and closes the door behind him.
“Come here.” He whispers. Taking my wounded
