"There will always be guys like that. I'd been through it too. She should bear it and tell them upfront to stop. If she doesn't it'll never stop."
My mother was in my room. "But she already tried that. She even complained at school but-"
"You spoil her too much mom. If it were me, I'd have them groveling already."
"Do I need to remind you how many times you spent crying in your room?" She was kind of right, so I didn't really have an argument there. "Besides, she's much kinder than you and-"
"Argh, fine." I resigned myself.
I woke up in a very soft bed. My clothes weren't here. I was pretty much in my b-day suit underneath the sheet. It was embarrassing but oh well. I tried moving but my body hurt like hell. I couldn't even move an inch. I had loads and loads of scars and bandages. Do I really have to live with these?
