Your Way Out

Manipulation

She didn't have to speak. Her eyes said it all. The heavy anchor of disappointment was chained around my ankles as I dragged myself to Agent Hanna's office. Dr. Banner followed close behind, hanging his head, and twiddling his thumbs. When the door closed, my heart sank. This was going to be my last day here, for sure. There couldn't be any possible way for Dr. Banner to pull me out of this grave.

I took a seat in front of her desk as she fuzzed with the clutter she'd collected. Banner leaned against an old sand-colored filing cabinet and crossed his arms solemnly. The only way I could describe the atmosphere would be downcast. A dense cloud of discomfort billowing out, curling into itself as it clashed against the walls. The silence was nauseating. My eyes passed between Banner, Hanna, and the mountain range of clutter.

"Gods, just say something. Anything," I pleaded in my head.

Of course, she didn't. No one said anything for a while. Banner and I just shared a glanced as Hanna flipped through pages, as if she was buying her time. Trying to make us feel awkward and distressed. I wouldn't put it past her.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. The squeak of the chair made Hanna's eyes snap to me. I froze. They were intense black holes intent on devouring me. Her mouth pressed tight in a thin pink grimace. Her dark arched eyebrows were harsh narrow lines, aggressive ridges marred her forehead. Yet, I still felt nothing from her. It was almost refreshing to be in a room with normal people. Not having to feel every emotion at all times. They fell into the background. I was able to filter my emotions from theirs.

Guilty. That was the main one. Scared was another. Anxiety was there too, slinking around, causing my heart to wail against my chest. If she would just say something.

A folder slammed on the desk. I jolted in surprise. Hanna was eyeing me up and down with fierce eyes. She could've sawed me in two. Anxiety was building inside me. I needed to twitch, fidget, bounce my leg, or something. I was going to crazy in this petrified state. Not only that, but I could feel my skin crawl, like it was trying to escape, and wiggle away to hide.

She took a deep breath and parted her lips. Thank the gods. Finally, she sighed, "What the hell was that?" Her eyes flipped between Dr. Banner and me. "Well?" she huffed.

"Look, she was having a hard time and I thought maybe it was because Loki-"

"The prisoner," Agent Hanna corrected Dr. Banner curtly.

"Yes, the prisoner. I thought that Miss. Bright's depressive state was a result of...the prisoner's current emotional state. When we first brought him in, she reported on having insomnia as a direct result of his refusal to sleep. So, I put two and two together," Banner explained.

"That's a lie," I yelled suddenly, "it was my idea, not his. I convinced him to let me into Loki's cell."

"The prisoner's cell," Hanna exhaled through clenched teeth.

"I didn't need much convincing, Miss. Bright. You had a sound argument," Banner smiled kindly.

Hanna pinched the bridge of her nose, sucking in full lungs of air. There was a vein in her head about to pop. "Miss. Bright," she began in an agitated voice, "The prisoner is the reason you couldn't sleep. He's also the reason you had a panic attack, correct?"

"No, that's false," I snapped coldly.

Hanna quirked an eyebrow. "Is it now?"

I was suddenly filled with courage. Maybe it was spite. Loki was right. I didn't like the way she spoke to me either. I didn't like her cocky attitude and hostility.