Dead Girl Walking ― Aaron Minyard

01. the kids aren't alright

when it rains, it pours
stay thirsty like before
― fall out boy

♦

STEAM BLURRED THE WORLD AROUND HER, thickening the air as it filtered into Mara's lungs. She breathed it in, waiting for the taste of ammonia or bleach to reach her tongue, to jolt her out of the long dream she'd found herself in and bring her back to the sharp, painful reality of the Nest. 

Any moment now, she would wake up in her bed—in her bland, black room, fingers gripping the blanket as if it were a shield, even if it had never served such a purpose. She had lost her childhood a long time ago, long before she should have, but some childish ideas still lingered. 

Any moment now. If she was lucky, she would wake up on her own, or Jean shake her awake as gently as anyone in the Nest did anything. If she was unlucky, Riko would come to wake her, either with his switchblade or his hands around her throat. 

Either way, she would wake up and the dream would be over, leaving only traces of a life outside of Castle Evermore. 

There was a quiet knock on the bathroom door, and Mara almost let herself believe the dream was reality. 

"Mara?" Abigail Winfield's voice was the softest sound Mara had ever heard. "Do you need help getting dressed?" 

Mara swallowed hard, digging her blunt fingernails into her thigh. The pain brought clarity, and the clarity was this: the dream was real.

She was free. 

(As free as runaway property could be, at least.)

"No," Mara managed to say before Abby could worry about her silence. "I'll be right out." 

"Okay," Abby said. "Shout if you need help." 

Mara took another deep, painful breath of steamy air. It smelled like the cocoa butter scented body wash she'd used, with a hint of the jasmine conditioner—both borrowed from Abby. Mara wasn't used to those kinds of smells—in the Nest, everyone used the same unscented toiletries. 

As disorienting as the new smells were, Mara found she liked them. 

It took her longer than the average person to get dressed halfway, unwelcome tears pricking at her eyes as she bent to pull on her shorts. Putting on the sports bra was even worse, and the steam didn't help. She stifled a grunt of pain as the loose band settled just above her broken ribs.

She didn't bother with a shirt, knowing what was in store once she stepped out of the bathroom. She hadn't even bothered to bring one into the bathroom with her in the first place—modesty was something she hadn't known for a long time. 

She also didn't bother to do anything to her wet hair except drape her towel across her shoulders to catch the dripping water. Even that movement pulled on her ribs, but she was as familiar with pain as she was with breathing. 

Abby was waiting for her in the living room, Aaron Minyard leaning against the doorway that led into the kitchen. Mara ignored him. Her first impression of him had been him waking her up every two hours her first night at Abby's to make sure her concussion wouldn't kill her, and she would've clawed his face off the fourth time if Kevin hadn't held her back.

Suffice to say, they'd gotten off to a bit of a rough start. 

Mara sat down on the couch. "This is unnecessary."

Abby's mouth twitched with a suppressed frown. "I just want to make sure everything's healing properly," she said, holding her hands up in silent question. After Mara swung at her the first time she was awake for Abby's help, it was an understandable precaution.