I laugh with my friends. They told a funny joke. We talk about nonsense. It’s a good way to pass time in class. They’re going downtown. I have homework. I don’t care anymore.

I get home. My parents are angry. It’s the middle of the night. They say. I ignore them. That's what my friends do. I check my phone. My grades are dropping. I look at my hands. My nails are covered in acrylic.

Where are the caring hands that comforted where are the committed hands that met deadlines where are the expressive hands that communicated love and are considerate of her parents where are the innocent hands with the stubby unpolished nails? 

A tear splashes onto my hand.