Disclaimer: FMA belongs to Arakawa Hiromu
Notes: What I've written here is sorta connected to what I wrote for theme five (Heiki & Heiki).
Sixteen: Reaching Voice & Unreachable With Voice
The floor beneath her bed was filthy, and dusty, and Riza's nose itched as she lay there, curled up as close to the wall as she could, to make herself less likely to be found. She didn't like hiding – it didn't seem right. Riza was a quiet, pleasant child who always obeyed orders, not one who tried to rebel against the whims of adults. But that was what had her in this predicament in the first place.
Biting down on her trembling lip, she told herself furiously that she was too old to be hiding underneath her bed, all the while wishing she had thought to do so earlier, when she was still so eager to please her father. Her back burned as he called her name again, sounding irritated now, and she knew that she was just inviting punishment on herself. It was just so emotionally draining to pretend to be pleased with the markings he had pricked onto her, and to show him, as though he cared more for the picture than for her.
So there she was, underneath her bed, hearing her father's voice move away, and not listening one little bit.