[....more silence. She keeps staring at her hands]

No. I’m not okay.

I hate... being afraid. I hate that people can hurt me, even if it’s just a few people. I hate having two lives and only one head, and only one me. And I hate feeling fragile. I hate feeling like I’m made of glass. I hate... that I can’t do the things I know I’m supposed to be able to do. I hate that I can’t fly. And that I’m so slow. I feel...

[She presses her lips together. Hard.]

I feel weak.