The Rules Of Revenge

RN | TWO (pt. 1)

I was possessed, but only I had the ability to free myself, or so my therapist said. Taking her advice, I repeated my mantra until my tongue became drier than sand paper. It felt heavy within my mouth. Stretching my vocal chords to their limits, I screamed at the voices to just leave me alone! I hate myself for what I did but I am doing my best to make-up for it! Hadn't I paid for it enough? They did not believe so. Nonetheless, the stronger my voice became, the further the voices went. I did not know how long I sat there, mumbling incoherently to myself, but eventually the voices left and, in their place, came a void. An all-consuming black hole, precisely where my soul should be.

Although my stubborn nature was already caustic to most, the frosty aura that surrounded me after an episode was enough to put even the brightest of people on edge.

"You alright?" Don asked, stepping cautiously inside my room.

I nodded, gripping my bed-stand with one hand. I was hunched over, my right arm clutching my oversized t-shirt as if I had been shot in the stomach, but I was fine—physically.

"I'm fine," I said as I sat down on the bed. A twisted sense of pride washed over me as I noted the lack of tremor in my voice. You're quite the actress, my subconscious said. Sporting a haughty grin, my chest puffed with arrogance, I looked at the mini-me and simply said, I know.

"Right," he said, leaning against the doorframe. He crossed his arms, a silent action, but I could almost read his mind. He was just like Dex, and it was beginning to get on my nerves. "Tell me something. Do you honestly believe what comes out of your mouth or are you just great at faking confidence?"

I braced myself, my teeth grinding on top of each other. The flashbacks were lingering in the shadows, luring me in. As the bile rose in the back of my throat, my eyes widened for a split second. The cycle was never-ending, and it was about to make its second round. I could practically taste the eggs and anti-depressant medications in the back of my throat. I couldn't let him know that, though. Mustering all my strength, I swallowed down the bitter bile and quickly cleansed my face of all emotions.

I scoffed—at him and myself. So much for the pills—they barely made a difference.

"Dex told you to watch over me," I said in a matter-of-the-fact tone. I wiped the corners of my eyes before Don could notice the tears of frustration threatening to run down the sides of my face. Although Don and Dex were equal in their overbearingness, there was a reason I preferred the former's company. He was easier to manipulate.

"If that's a question—yes, yes he did. But...don't take it in a wrong way. I just wanted to see how you were doing after the botched mission. It must be difficult for you to—"

I stood up, my legs barely supporting my weight. "What are you talking about? The mission was a success."

He gave me a once-over, briefly gliding his eyes over the length of my body. "You call that a success? You barely escaped with your life. And need I remind you, you passed out in my car after making grandiose statements about starting an underground war."

I scoffed. "Please. Being injured doesn't mean I lost or the mission was, as you said, 'botched.' I like to think of them as battle scars. And, just so we're clear, the whole thing was a success. Whether I passed out or not is irrelevant."

He gave me a knowing look. "Are we really having this conversation again? You know that I support your mission, Angie. I really do. But, your first mission went off the rails within the first thirty seconds, and you know that. I think you really need to examine your priorities again. What comes first for you? Your health or your mission?"

I did not miss a beat. "My mission. Health and everything else ties for second place."
"Are you sure?" he asked.

I crossed my arms as well. "Are you sure that you're on my side?"