Do you remember Jennifer who used to drink lattes at the Socialist Worker Coffee Shop, to compensate for the calcium deficiency caused by the formula her mother fed her throughout primary school? Did her mother wince when Jennifer accidentally poured milk in her tea? ‘We’ll have no milk in this house,’ her mother always said.

Did Jennifer lack personality as well as calcium, which wasn’t as easy to replace? Did her ex, Simon, a psychiatric nurse, believe he could fix her, even with the open compass on her nightstand, its wide legs stabbing outwards like a dancer’s? Did the compass protect her from groaning wraiths that poured through the walls at night? Did she quit wearing jogging bottoms and muddy trainers, and instead spend hours twisting her hair into ribbons?

Did her sister make noises when she was inside the fridge? Who had found the abandoned fridge first? Had it been Jennifer’s or her sister’s idea to hide? Had she dragged the armchair by herself and managed to heap it on top? Had she gone away to swim and not heard the kicking and soft moans? Had she opened the door afterwards by herself? 

Had Simon and all the therapists told her that it wasn’t her fault? That she was too young to be left alone for days on her own taking care of her sister. And was that why there was never any milk?

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Katie Coleman is a British writer living in Thailand. Her work has appeared in Roi Faineant Press, Ghost Parachute, The Sunlight Press, SoFloPoJo, Bending Genres, The Odd Magazine, Ilanot Review and more. She has received nominations for Best of the Net and Pushcart prizes and can be found on Twitter @anjuna2000 and Instagram @kurkidee