Nothing makes sense anymore. Torn between growing up but still being a kid. You become more and more aware of the eyes on you, the microexpressions that pass within the second. Dread begins to seep in and comfort you like a wet blanket. It becomes your closest friend after they take your ability to speak.
Books stay as your safe haven, but the content changes. It starts with a trip to the dollar store and a blank, black cover. Sadness and loneliness become your new mentors in this story. You continue to choose these titles, things much more dark but much more comforting. Your sense of identity seems clearer, finally feeling a connection akin to that cord that held you to your mother.