"Where is it?" Catherine demanded. There was a time when she pretended to be "nice", played good cop pretty well. But there also was a time when I promised myself that I would not give these people the satisfaction of hearing me scream. Both times have long since passed.
Now, it's a constant routine of her asking me where the possibly the most valuable piece in this game was, and me keeping my mouth shut. Refusing to make a sound other than screaming. It made it better somehow, letting out the pain in a loud, wordless explosion.
The knife dragged down my arm again, making a deeper, longer cut. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, whispering the names of everyone I'm enduring this for over and over again in my head to drown out Catherine's words.
Mom, Abby, Bex, Liz, Macey, Zach, Dad.
Dad, who had died to protect this secret. To bring down the circle. They've shown me to his grave before, to show me what they do to spies who don't talk. He was brave until the very end, so I will be too.
The knife travels to my stomach, leaving blood behind wherever it trails. I squeeze my eyes tighter and nearly choke on my screams, a little held back by my last shred of stubbornness and dignity. It hurts worse everyday. I suppose they realized that at one point I'd get used to the pain, so they amp it up each time.
Mom, Abby, Bex, Liz, Macey, Zach, Dad.
Why did I leave Gallagher Academy? What on earth was I thinking?
To learn their secrets. Gilly and Dad's. To learn and protect them.
Why didn't I bring backup? Why did I sneak out quietly alone, when I could've brought Bex or Macey or even Liz? I could've even brought Zach if I could get hold of him.
Because if you brought them, they'd be right next to you, screaming too. Can you imagine slight Liz being tortured, maybe even more than you? Are you really that selfish?
At this point, all I do is have conversations with myself. My logic questioning all my past decisions and my heart telling me that there was no other choice.
This is my third week in custody of the circle.
There are countless days to come.
Come find me, Mom. Come find me and fight off all these people. Take me into your arms and bring me back home. Make me feel safe again. Make me numb to all the pain and make me forget.
Come find me.
Mom, Abby, Bex, Liz, Macey.
Come find me...
...Zach.
And save me from your Mother.
I scream as this time, not a cut, but a burn tortures me. And I picture everyone I love right next to me, enduring this pain, or worse, watching me bear it, and I know it would break them.
Never mind, Zach. Don't find me.