The rock wall is Everest. Unconquerable, huge—especially huge looking in their small gym. Its bright plastic rocks and slick grey face laugh at her, teasing her with the voices of her classmates. Erica stares it down.

She puts her hair up in a bun and gets ready, walking towards the wall in short, purposeful strides. She's ready this time, she can do this. She can do this.

What are you doing, Erica? A shrill voice in her head asks. It sounds like her mother, or maybe one of the kind, pitying nurses from Beacon Hills hospital. Her home away from home. You're sick, you can't do this.

Erica puts each of her hands on a plastic rock and pulls herself up onto the wall. She's going to prove the voice wrong. She can do this.

She reaches up and grabs hold of another rock, heaves her body up again. Already her hands are sore, the plastic chaffing the soft skin of her palms. She grabs another rock, and another. She can do this.

This hadn't looked so difficult when the others had done it. Every one of them had scaled the wall with ease, making it look like the simplest thing in the world. Just put your hands and feet on the brightly coloured hunks of plastic and climb up, then drop back down and high five your friends.

There's a fire in Erica's chest as she struggles to control her breathing. She can feel her knees shaking and she holds tight to the wall. Just a rest, just for a moment. Then she'll do it. Because she can do this.

No, Erica, the voice whispers. It doesn't sound like her mother anymore, or a caring nurse. It sounds like the hissing, taunting voices of her peers. It sounds like their laughter, their jeers. It sounds like the wall itself is telling her You Can't Do This.

She tastes blood at the back of her throat, and she squeezes her eyes shut. God no, she thinks. Not here, not now. She opens her eyes for just a second, just long enough to check how far she is from the ground. She's close to the top of the wall, but it's still no where near high enough. If she falls from this height, she'll hit her head, maybe break her arm... but she'll live.

She'll live, and all her classmates will come running out when they hear the noise of her body hitting the ground. They'll all stand around her as she spasms and jerks about, as she foams at the mouth and pisses herself like a dog. Some will laugh, some will turn away, shamed and embarrassed for her. They'll stand around and pity her.

Erica feels tears in her eyes.

She can't do this. She can't.

Then her body begins to seize, and the plastic rocks slip away from her fingers.