Popped bubblewrap is no good.

I dont believe you.

Tommy was at his wits end with Cora. Constant screaming and hitting her head against walls. "CORA YOU ARE GOING TO HURT YOURSELF." He picked her up and held her down to her bed. "Shhh... shhh angel, it's okay. Shut up now. Okay Cora I mean it you can stop crying now. Cora!"

She cuddled her rabbit, to escape her fathers anger. "Msorry Dad."

"Oh Cor... Cor. Please just try and calm down. Don't be sad. Be happy. Your head alright?"

"Mh."

Cora, not manic just hollow, went for a walk round the streets. She hummed to herself. Walking around and around. She knew she'd be sent to a nutters place, even if Daddy said otherwise. She had to confront him.

So she did.

"Daddy."

"Ohhh Cora. What now?"

This wasn't going to be easy to say. "Are you going to send me elsewhere?"

"What- no."

"Swear."

"I swear."

"I don't believe you."

For some time now, Cora's head had been ringing. At first it sent her into a spiral, but then she adapted to it. Again, she wouldn't tell anyone they had enough to deal with.
She had been lied to by her own father, so even if she wanted to tell she probably wouldn't.

Things hadn't settled with Auntie Ada, she'd written her a sorry note and bought her some Turkish delight but she still couldn't face her in person. 

Anyways, she was struggling to hear with the ringing. She decided it was from bashing her head against the wall.

God she just wishes that she could be a normal little girl with a normal family.

The sense of resentment earlier described, boiled up once more at her family. Sometimes she wished Tommy would buggar off and get shot four times in his fucking forehead doing business. Why was it he never spoke to her? Why was it he'd rather be at work or with Arthur instead of her?

A cat down the street she was strolling down was stuck in a tree. She tried to help it down before Mrs Pomary dragged her out and threw her to the ground. "Don't touch my cat! Freak!"

"I... I was just trying to help, I'm so sorry Mrs Pomary." This is what she was sick of. The treatment she gets at six nearly seven years old.

"Clear off home Shelby devil."

So she did. She sat infront of the fire place in the cosy red living room and awaited her tea. The ringing had become drastic, but she ignored it and sat all by herself, just content to be there.