He quickly unlatches one wrist and my body slumps into the post. As he moves to the next one, I lose the strength to hold myself up.
I fall forward toward the blood-stained arena ground.
My body sways harshly as I finally break the restraint on my mind, but the scream in the flashback pours from my throat now.
The shattering of glass registers in my ears before the pain across my knuckles. I stare down at the red as it drips down my fingers. The puddle I’m creating ripples with the vibrations passing through the bathroom.
How could they do that to me? More than once. More than twice.
Why did I leave those arena walls each time and pretend it never happened?
I stagger back as my body tingles to the point of numbness. I flex my fingers repeatedly to ease the feeling, but that doesn’t help. If anything, I just tremble more.
Everything inside of me riots. Especially my soul.
It goes ballistic in my chest, slinging itself from one side to the next.
Attempting to break free.
My knees hit the floor as my hands rise beside me and everything within me explodesoutward.
My bellow ricochets off the walls, shattering all the glass in the bathroom. The jagged edges slice my skin as it rains down around me, but the noise doesn’t stop.
I’m lost to the sound, the destruction, the grief, the overwhelming thoughts, everything that continues to pile onto my lap.
It all rushes out in wild rapids made of glass, marble, and water shooting out everywhere.
A large shard freezes an inch from my face.
I had no intention of stopping it. Mostly because I couldn’t see it, but also because I don’t have the strength to lift my arms as they fall beside me.
The vibrations stop.
The thoughts flee me.
My soul settles down.
I gaze around, staring at the deadly flakes frozen in the air.
“Thayla,” Kyzen whispers as he kneels in front of me.
“My weird, unidentified power came out again,” I say flatly.
“I see that.” He glances at the mess he has suspended in the air. “What do you need?”
My lip trembles and I bite my tongue to keep myself from crying. Does this man ever get a break? Does he ever get the chance to be the one to break instead of putting everything back together?
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t shut me out.”
I open my mouth to argue, then immediately shut it as I search for something to say. I don’t want to be vulnerable. I’m already bleeding out, both literally and metaphorically. I also can’t stand the thought of bottling anything else inside of me.
“I don’t know if I know how to let you in. Fully.”
He nods. “We’ll learn. Together. We can start small.”
Small…
