Walking hurts. Showering is impossible.
You can’t close your eyes for too long.
I’m not even sure if I feel rage right now. If I do, it’s different than any I’ve ever experienced before. It’s consuming in a way that makes me…hate myself, not everyone else. Yet, I want to protect myself.
Fiercely.
I can’t deny that there’s something simmering within me. It’s buried deep down beneath a blanket of numbness I can’t shake. Not on the surface ready to blow up at any moment like normal.
I don’t think it’s rage. I don’t know what it is.
“Lift your foot.”
I hold in my gasp as he kneels before me. My eyes blink, then zero in on the light stick thing he’s produced and placed on the ground beside him.
When I focus on him, that breath leaves my lips anyway.
I can’t fall for the sincerity in his eyes.
“I didn’t say I was doing this.”
“You don’t have a good enough reason not to, so just trust me. You win, you get to go back and hide from us in your room.”
I’m not hiding from them.
I don’t dare say that out loud.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What if you win?”
This smile is full of premature victory. It takes over his face, and his eyes trap me in a trance.
He isn’t using his power on me or this game he’s playing.
“You have to show that pretty little face of yours to my brothers. No more hiding unless it’s in one of our rooms.”
Everything trembles, yet my foot slowly slides in.
I bite my lip to hold back a whimper as his fingers grip my calf to keep me steady.
One shoe on.
Gods, are you really considering this?
“What are the rules?”
“There are no rules.”
“No. I want rules.”
“Name them then, little burden.”
“You can’t use your power to beat me.”
“I cross my heart and hope to—”
