ire

face, forcing me to squin

wn, grinding my knees into the filt

ront row of the ot

slow, predatory smile st

he taunted, her voice echoing

ire. Make me laugh. If you fail,

against the enforc

, my voice crackin

er is dying. She needs my

ized in the doorway at

is broad frame a silhouette against

a drowning woman

cried out, tears b

stop. She is

Elena's chair, loo

his handsome face a ma

concern to me," he stated,

of the stage, a sudden, violen

suicide to the rival families. You po

air driven

ss. Elena had used a burner account to frame me-the timing was too perfect

I pleaded, shaking

ying. Look at t

his voice striking the concrete w

my direction, he sat down

nd her shoulders in a s

issed her with a raw pass

cold and cloying

last breaths in a hospital room, the

ner phone buzzed

ing me reached do

er ID, smirked, and to

out in a tone of mock sympathy, w

into agoniz

inst my captors, but

no c

hat little dignity I

red, my spirit crushe

ll do

sneered and

legs, my torn blouse h

I looked at the two of them and began

my own ap

ectacular fail

with a shattered heart, beggin

was not

rops," she o

ying filthy, oil-stained rags and a batte

na commanded, he

I stripped off my torn blouse and pull

whelming stench of v

red the thick, greasy white paint across my face, drawin

sat back in

miliation without a single shred of

r phone, and snapped a pho

" she laughed, leaning her h

justing the cuffs of hi

ed Elena

of the arena together, leaving me standing

phone onto the dusty floorb

nd sprinted out the ba

y streets, still covered in the fi

inted, whispering as I pa

burned

d with every a

ing glass doors of the h

uting at me from the front desk a

as a nurse was gently pulling a cris

ad, tremblin

the bed and slowly, numb

s were

est wa

monitors w

ing, animalistic wail

til I could no longer breathe, my greasy clown

e cold linoleum floor outside the

by tears, made me look li

ut my phone and texted my fath

acked screen: "Her death is an inconvenience. I am fi

owing screen in de

my small, empty a

my skin raw until it bled, desperately trying to wash away

y arranging a quiet

n, watching the plain wooden cas

ved letters on the tombsto

ifying clarity that in this muddy churchyard, there was not

hone buzzed in

message from t

icate headquart

e my mother's death, I felt something other than gr