I spent a lot of time with D and Jane, the three of us becoming good friends. I practised my abilities some more, as my hand slowly regrew. I was soon...at the point of having stubs where my fingers should be. While D and Jane were at school I stayed with Joyce. I had a few more conversations with Gwen, who was getting more and more keen to meet up. After much discussion with Joyce and D, I agreed, and we set a time and a place which was public and relatively safe. So even if my sister was. My own screaming doesn’t count as noise inside my head, maybe because I know it’s something I control. I don’t know what it is that makes me be like that, I just am because I am.Sometimes my brother yells at me, “Shut up. Shut the fuck up! Bitch.” I just scream longer and louder. I am not ‘Bitch’, I am Susan. It is worse if he wraps his arms around me and holds me down. That just makes me keep screaming, louder and longer. I try to scratch or hit or push him away. I kick and buck and twist. But. More

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