#Chapter15
My mother's persistent knocking sounds against my bedroom door. /"Are you dressed? They'll be here any minute!/" She calls from the other side.
I lay on my bed, dressed on the top but not the bottom. It took me a while to pick the top and put it on and crash into my blankets. Doing the same with pants seems like a lot. Getting up and walking to my closet feels as if it might drain the last bit of my energy. If I tumble to my butt—I may just lay on the floor and stare at the wall for the rest of the night. The blank section of wall displayed by my bed has gotten old.
/"Almost,/" I manage to yell.
