Each swing brings your knee closer to cresting the windowsill. Each swing makes a little more of the windowsill crumble away. Your knee hits the ledge and you try not to, but your hands tighten. The sill crumbles. You drop. As you hit the ground, you feel your leg snap beneath you.
You wake up, biting back a scream.
Your leg will heal before your father wakes up. It always does. But knowing it will magically fix itself doesn’t make it hurt less now.
And tomorrow will be just the same.