Antagonym

Chapter 44

They say words can't hurt you but that was wrong. Physical pain made you angry and weak. Words stuck in your head like they were printed on your eyelids, an inescapable wrecking ball that destroyed your confidence and distorted your reality until the only thing that was clear to you was that you wanted to end the misery and just die.

That's how I felt right now.

As soon at that door shut, the line about Spack took over my consciousness. I didn't know what was happening, all I knew was that the only person close enough to grab my falling body was Sylvia. Her hand hit my armpit with as much force as my falling hundred fifty pound body as her other hand gripped my right arm like death. She grabbed my body in just enough time to stop my knees from slamming into the hard marble floors, my vision blurring but not from tears.

I started to get tunnel vision and before I knew it, I felt Spack's hands on my body, holding his hand over my mouth and sticking his grip down my shorts. I knew he wasn't real but I couldn't avoid trying to rip my arm from Sylvia's grip. She let go easily, but the visions didn't fade. I only felt weaker; like there was ketamine in my veins all over again. My movements became weak before I was frozen, only able to replay that night I my head: every ounce of pain, violation, hopelessness.

Worthlessness.

I don't know how long I was trapped in my dream, but my eyes jolted open at the feeling of ice behind my neck. My breath was pounding and my mouth felt like there was cotton in it. Not again. No. My headlight sized eyes couldn't even adjust to my surroundings before I felt hands on my biceps, holding me down. "Danny. You're not drugged. It's okay. It's actual cotton to stop the bleeding," Sylvia's calming voice filled my head as her delicate hands left my body, the scene in front of me unfolding.

Finn was crouched next to Sylvia by my feet while Beck did the same next to my right arm as I layer on the marble floor. I sat up, the blood rushing fro my head so fast that Beck had to put his hand on my chest and gently push me back down on the hard floor as Sylvia removed the ice pack from under my neck. "You passed out less than a minute ago. Are you okay?" Sylvia asked me with furrowed brows.

"I'm fine," I muttered, sitting up and sending them all pissed off looks as they tried to push me down again. I closed my eyes and waited for my blood to start circulating normally before gesturing for Finn to help me up. He grabbed my right hand and hauled me up, gripping my bicep when I was on my feet to make sure I was steady. "I'm alright," I repeated, spitting the blood soaked cotton ball in my mouth into my hand and pushing past them to reach the kitchen where I threw it out in the garbage can and washed my hands.

Finn was looking worried as always with drawn brows and downturned lips. Beside him Sylvia and Beck looked impassive, both of them much better at hiding the pity and worry they knew I didn't want. Finn could be emotionless if he wanted to, but he could never hide worry for the people he loved. That was his one and only tell.

"I'm going to brush my teeth. I don't want to talk about it," I said defiantly before pushing past Sylvia and Beck. I could tell they were all fighting the urge to stop me based on the tension in the air as I walked back into the atrium and mounted the left staircase. My bare feet padded on the cool hardwood floor as I took a left, walking down the hall until I took another left into my old room. My hand left the cool silver doorknob as I closed it, leaving me in the large white room.

The bed was perfectly made with a white couch and a glass table on a fluffy white area rug laid over the dark wood floor. There was a glass desk with a black leather chair on the other side of the room with a white dresser. It looked unlived in. Clearly, the maid had done some work in here since I last spent the night. All of my stuff was neatly put away in drawers and my old laptop perfectly centered on the desk with the bookshelf next to it organized alphabetically.