[Of all the classes she's been shuffled to today, it's this one that hits maybe a little too close to home. A little more personal than the others, even when she wants to deny it most.
Fingers trembling, she doesn't remember when her nails scrapped along the table's surface to leave deep, permanent marks.
These questions are stupid. So so stupid. Swallowing thickly fat, unshed tears cling to her lashes as she stares down at her questionnaire. Why does each question hurt so badly?]