I don’t know what my tiny mind expected when he asked me to stand, but I obliged anyway. With a shaking body and feet not feeling like my own I stood up. Despite everything I’ve faced, lifting my eyes to face Roman still plagues my sleep; he’s on the face of all the demons in my dreams.
He is the only one looking right at me while all the others avoid my gaze. His eyes are the same colour as mine, the tilt of his jar reminds me of my own and pull between his brows.
'S-s-she’s dead. Olivia died yesterday.' I stood there watching his reaction, twisting my hands together and feeling the weight of air pressing in around me. My words seem to mean nothing to him. I feel my eyes begin to burn with frustrated tears, the group before me seems to blur into one over whelming force. I'm not used to being the centre of attention.
'My mum died! And no one care' I swallow hard, trying to keep back the building tears. 'She is still upstairs in our room. A-a-and I can't move her on my own'
'Your room?' My breath hitches in my throat as Roman runs his tongue across his chapped lips.
'Huh, well yes' A smile pulls at his lips when I answer; I feel the mood in the room shift.