IT IS PAST MIDNIGHT and a ten-year-old Clare Florence is still awake as she was holding a conversation with her imaginary friend.

"How about your mom?" she asks, "Do you remember her name?"

Chase hits his foot on the edge of her bed, "No, but I do recall she has blonde hair."

Clare writes it down in her journal, "Any siblings?" she questions shortly whilst biting her pencil as she looked at the boy.

"Older brother," he kicks again, "He's alcoholic. That's all I remember."

"Then... Do you have a girlfriend?" she shyly asks.

"To be honest-"

Their conversation was then interrupted when someone opened the door. Riley's face then peeked through the small gap.

"Clare, who are you talking to?" she whispers. Her eyes then widened at what she saw, "Why do you have bruises on your knuckles?!"

"I don't remember!" Clare defended, "I think that was when I dreamt of having a kung-fu fight with someone," a wily smile plastered on her lips.

A faint laugh from Chase was then heard.

"Clare, is this because of Jake? Is that why you're hurting yourself?" the older asked furiously.

"I'm not hurting myself!"

"Then is it because you lost every game we play?"

"What are you talking about?!" Clare puts her pencil down on her desk, anger and worry now written on her face.

Her sister then fully entered the room. Chase's expression changed from bliss to fret.

"Get out," Clare defended her journal from Riley, "Go away!"

"Clare... You can tell me anything. You don't need to write your feelings down."

Tears started brimming under the younger's eyes but she hid it by hugging her notebook while looking down.

"You won't understand. Just... Get out!"