The Game of Death

The Game of Death: Preface

Note: The chapters after this make more sense.

PREFACE

----------------

"If we don't fix this, she's only putting herself in more and more danger." I could hear the deep voice in the other room, threatening. " If she keeps using this... this thing, she's going to put herself to the point where she could die."

"I would think it's too late to fix anything." Mom's higher voice joined in reply. It was beginning to anger me, how they talked about me when they thought I couldn't hear. Didn't they realize I didn't need help? I was fine the way I was. Without resistance, I let out a loud, piercing scream that was full of croaks and screeches. The two people ran into my room and looked at me, shaking their heads.

"Take this into consideration, guys," I explained, my eyes wide with anger. "I don't need help. So get that straight, and get him out of here! He's useless!" I pointed at the guy standing beside Mom.

"But he's here to help you." Mom's face was blank, but I could see the worry deep in her eyes.

"No, he's only here to hurt me. I think I would know." I stood up and stomped up to them. I whispered in Mom's ear, "Give me my life back, and I won't hurt anybody. That includes myself, Melissa." I usually never said Mom's real name, but anger always got the best of me.

In the corner of my eye, I noticed the guy ruffling for something in his pocket. I switched my glare at him. "Put that away, please." He ignored me. "NOW." But the object in his hand was already facing me. With that, I hissed at him, muttering in some tone of voice and language I didn't recognize. I fell to the ground in agonizing pain, begging Mom to make him stop. The power he held was too strong for me-he was hurting me more and more by the second. I let out endless screams and curses as I fought the power.

"It's not working!" I cried at him. "You're failing! It's not working!" I tried to discourage him out of his act. But indeed, I could still feel the helpless power scourging through me, and destroying my hope. It was like long fingernails against a chalkboard, but never ending, and only growing worse. Eyes now closed tight, I reached for something on my floor. A book, perhaps? I couldn't tell for sure, but it would be enough to distract the guy. I threw the object at his ankle, and just as I had hoped, he fell, groaning.

The thing he held dropped, but I grabbed it before it hit the ground. With strong force, I broke it in half and threw the pieces out of my room. By now, I was in tears. How could I be acting this way? I needed freedom back, but it wouldn't let me. It only wanted me.

Mom was angry: her face, expressing a great about of red and steam pouring out of her ears, told me I was in for it. "Make it stop!" I cried. "Just... I don't care what you do! Help me! Before... before..." I scratched my nails into the wooden floor of my room, trying to fight to speak. "DON'T," I muttered over and over again, though I wasn't meaning to. Everything was getting out of control; I needed to get outside. "Let me out of here." I pushed past Mom and stepped over the guy still laying on the ground.

"Honey!" Mom called after me, immediately following me. "This man needs to speak with you. He has work to finish with you."

"No," I said after I stopped and turned around. My voice was cranky, scratchy, and angry. "I don't want help. I'm not leaving. No damn exorcism is going to get me out of here!" And with that, I stomped outside in the cold night...​