I just stare at the skirting board that is slowly coming away from the wall. She sighs, and I can feel her eyes burning holes into my back. I kick my shoes off as Mum drops the door key on the kitchen counter next to us. It creaks as we both enter our flat, and I immediately feel claustrophobic. The son in that photo didn't know what was going to happen to him when he was wearing that uniform. The son captured in that photo isn't anything like the son she has now. On the keychain, there's a keyring of a drawing that I made at school when I was six (a Mother's Day painting of me and her as stick figures painted in thick black paint), and another one of a photo of me on my first day of secondary school - I look relatively happy, my hair gelled down, a slight sparkle in my eyes, a missing tooth at the back of my mouth, my tie neatly done up. The noise of the keys jangling is the loudest things I've heard in twenty minutes. We reach the door of our flat, number eighteen. There's about two exercise books, a blue biro, and a ripped up planner in there.

My bag is balancing dangerously on the edge of my shoulder.

My collar is unkempt, my blazer sleeves are rolled up, and my shorts are too tight. I'm trailing behind her, one of my laces undone. She doesn't care why, she either takes me back to school or lets me stay at home, and then just goes straight back to work, leaving me to sit on my lumpy bed and wallow in self-hatred all day. The only time I see her is when she has to pick me up in the middle of the day. I can't bear to look at her face it's probably drooping with disappointment and sewn together with strings of anger and a needle of disgust. She's still got her work uniform on and her hair is in that bun that it always seems to be styled in. I swear half the teaching staff have memorised my mother's phone number by this point. Today is one of those common days where the school receptionist has to pick up the phone, dial my mum's number, and tell her to come and pick me up. It's even rarer for me to not cause some sort of disruption, minor or major, to the school day while I'm there. It's rare for me to stay in school for a full day.

Alice oseman i was born for this