Sick of itView OnlineMy nightmareSick of itSweat pooled in my bed. Quivering in my thin pyjamas, I sat on the edge of my wooden frame. Tears streaming down my face as I stood on my laminate floor. No more, I refuse to conceal this horror. 12 years, 12 bloody years of restless nights. Reaching into my schoolbag, I twiddled my hand around before pulling out my pencil case and a notebook. Carefully walking to the oak door, I flipped a switch, causing a single bulb to flicker to life. "