C41 Terror.

Once Jason is bathed and sleeping, I walk into my bedroom, running a hand through my hair. The strands have grown considerably long but I don't hate it, I'm beginning to realise it's not the length or colour of my hair that makes me who I am.

It's my actions, my thoughts, my feelings and my friendships with everyone around me.

I walk past a mirror hung on the wall and stop, turning to face it