Sixteen: I wrote this while watching American Horror Story

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(y/n) opened her eyes and looked around. She was in a bed thing and she was moving? Wait no, she’s in something that’s moving. She felt tired and fell back asleep.

She woke up again in a white room. Someone was standing in front of her with a needle. He moved it close to her face. Her face felt numb. Someone was holding her hand. She still felt tired so she went back to sleep.

(y/n) woke up again in a bed. The room was white and smelled bad, like bleach. She turned her head and saw Sal sitting in a chair.
“S-Sal?”
She sat up.
“You’re awake!”
"Wh-where are m-my moms?"
(Y/n) rubbed her eye, feeling tears start to build up.
"They went to get coffee, they're really worried about you."
"Wh-why can't I o-open my left e-eye?"
(Y/n) shakily moved her hand to carefully touch her bandaged eye.
"You cut it. The doctor said there wasn't any major damage but it might leave a scar."
"O-oh."
(Y/n) let her hand drop onto her lap.
"D-do I…"
(Y/n) looked to the side and grabbed the bedsheets.
"Do I-I look w-weird?"
(Y/n) looked back at Sal with tears pooling in her visible eye. Sal leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Not at all. Don't let anyone say different."
(Y/n) weakly smiled at the blue haired boy and wiped away the few tears that fell down her cheeks.
"What i-if people ma-make fun of me?"
"If anyone does, Larry will beat them up for you. Travis too, probably."
(Y/n) laughed quietly.
"Th-thanks Sal."
(Y/n) pulled Sal into a hug.
"Thanks for e-everything."

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