The Language I Spoke Yesterday

Kidnapped

And what do I get?

"I love you, Andromeda." He soothed. Glass crunched under his booted feet. "Come here, hug me." Hands rested on the counter on either side of me.

I shivered. His presence repulsed me. "Get off."

"Andromeda..."

"GET OFF!"

I didn't move.

For a moment, neither did he.

He slunk away with a whispered apology.

I stood at the sink while he got the broom out of the closet. My head was light, stomach heavy. My fingers tingled. "I'm going for a walk." I informed him, stepping barefoot through the patio door. The concrete deck was freezing. The physical numbness creeping up through the soles of my feet was a small echo of the cold that had seeped into my chest that morning.

"Put some shoes on, please." He begged, bringing me my boots. "I worry so much."

"Fuck off." I had left another house like this a long time ago. Dizzy and detached, moving on shear force of will with no direction.

I stalked away, barely noticing the blades of frozen grass pressing into my feet. Lines of blood marked my passage through the frosty yard. My breath puffed out in angry clouds as I walked aimlessly into town.

At some point, I realized that I was limping again; half dragging my left leg since my hip refused to rotate. I snorted to myself. Somehow I had thrown my back out again. Not that it was hard to do. Even sneezing carried the risk of sending me into bellowing pain.

I stopped on the corner, feeling curious stares sliding over me. I didn't care. Barefoot in white pajama pants with a pattern of black spots at the bottom and an oversized black and yellow T-shirt, I looked rather out of place on the winter streets. Not to mention the small trail of blood marking my passage.

The grey sky created a cold, ambient light and cast no shadows.

I realized that I wasn't going back.

But I had nowhere to go.

I wondered absently if the Devil Child was still alive, and if her crew would take me. If they ever got back together. A new era, two years from now... Would I be a part of that?

It would be too much to hope for, I decided. The Straw Hats were disbanded. The important thing was to change my appearance and get off the island before Zane realized I wasn't coming home. Before he decided to retaliate.

"Captain, look!" a quiet nasally voice giggled, "She matches you!"

I forced myself to focus on my surroundings. I was surprisingly close to Home Haven, where I worked full time as a Millwork specialist. When I was certain of where I was, I turned my head slightly to the left. A tall man in a black and yellow hoodie, a white spotted hat, and jeans that matched my pajamas paused across the street from me. A long sword rested over his shoulder. Grey eyes as flat as the sky took in my reckless attire.

My attention slid to his companion, a massive polar bear mink. His orange jumpsuit was decorated with a smiling virus over his heart. Through the thick haze that dominated my thoughts, I remembered бабушка saying that some Mink spoke our language. "Добре день. Как дела?" Good day. How are things?

He just blinked at me.

The man's eyes narrowed. "What language is that?"

"Oh." I looked down. I couldn't feel anything anymore. I noted that my feet and hands were turning purple. I knew that I should be angry with myself. I wasn't supposed to share my language. Бабушка said that I could never speak it to strangers, or even to the people closest to me unless I knew I would be safe with them. I already knew that I couldn't trust anyone who didn't already know my language.