had I not been struck by the upside-down image of my frilly ankle socks, once white, now turning bright red. Like a cartoon animal who doesn’t fall until they notice that the ground is gone, the sight of my own blood made me suddenly aware of the searing pain in my heels. I tore off my shiny black shoes and peeled the blood-soaked socks from my feet before righting myself and continuing my search barefoot.—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted
No. They’re teeth. Followed by a clump of slimy liquorice hair.—Hazel Hayes, Better by Far. Highlighted