The Silent Letters

Chapter Four.

Esme walked onto the school campus, slowly unwrapping the largest bandages around her hands and shoving them into her bag that hung by her side. She opted to keep the skinny bandage that was wrapped only a few times but covered the wounds on her hands. She pulled on the door of the lecture room, wincing at the pain that radiated from her hands but relished in the idea of interrupting Cecilia's teachings. Sure enough Professor Cecilia stood at her desk, watching Esme with a tight smile pulling at her face. Esme apologized between her teeth as she walked up the stairs, finding her seat. She pulled her books out and turned to the person that sat directly behind her to collect the notes that she missed.
The Professor turned back to her lecture, continuing on about the effects of specific mixtures of drugs within an IV. Esme wrote down the notes, wincing as the pen rubbed against the thin bandages. She felt the wounds open, cursing under her breath as the color red quickly filled the bandage, staining it a bright red. She continued on though, praying that the blood never became enough to drip onto her notes. Surely enough the two hours rolled over and the bell screamed through the hallways. Esme packed her stuff into her bag, grabbing at the bundle of bandages she had only previously stashed away. Cecilia saying her name scratched at her brain as she was asked to stay behind. She hung out at her desk until the door swung shut behind the last student. "Your father has provided... rules."
She slowly slid a folder across her desk, allowing Esme to reach it. Esme stared at her for a few moments before a laugh broke free. "I will not be taking the rules folder. Tell him to shove them up his ass. Maybe, just maybe you can follow. Like a good little lap dog."
She grabbed the folder, throwing it to the floor before walking out of the lecture room allowing the door to slam shut behind her, causing the old walls of the hallway shake and creak. She wandered into a bathroom, switching out her bandages before walking into her next lecture, apologizing profusely for being late. Esme took the notes and then left an hour and a half later for her break finally. Her friends were already gathered in the cafeteria, looking at all the options the kitchen had cooked up for the day. Asher found her instantly standing so he could wrap his arms around her. "Omg you are alive!!"
"Told you." Esme said as Asher squeezed her chest.
Asher squeezed once more before letting her go and turning to the group, "So anything happen today guys? I need entertainment."
Esme thought back to her lecture with Cici and the interaction with Alice. Both would be her secret she quickly decided as Asher screamed about something that was whispered across the table. She had a quick lunch and continued her lectures well into the afternoon before heading home for the day. Her hands ached as she pushed in the door for the cafe.
She had hoped to walk past Kim quickly, but Kim made a waving gesture at her as she handed a customer their change. "I'm still not tolerating you but there's someone in the corner booth asking for you."
Esme went to thank her but stopped herself as she spotted the person that was waiting in the booth, Cecilia. She walked over quietly hoping to make this quick as she stopped at the edge of the table, far away from Cici. "Sit." Cecilia waved at the cushioned seats opposite her as Esme glared at her hand like it was a snake.
Deciding that this wouldn't be quick she sat, sinking into the cushioned booth comfortably as she continued to hold the glare on the fake professor in front of her. "So what do you want?"
"Your father, bless him. Doesn't take very well to you not accepting his rules." She spoke calmly, rehearsed. As if she had written this speech down and revised it in the car ride to the cafe. Esme felt her teeth grind together as her hands itched under the bandages that desperately needed another change. "He has asked me to provide more... working threats." She slid another folder across the table, this one was a light blue color. "Follow the rules. Or watch your friends die. Kim, lovely Asher, Alice. All of them will burn to the ground because of you. So I would suggest that you follow your father's dedicated rules Esme."
Esme lifted a hand to her chest as she felt it tighten under the words that ran through her head. Cecilia smiled at her with her perfect white teeth and Esme snapped inside. "Fuck you. Honestly you do not get to come back into my life like a fucking bullet to my side. I will not follow his dedicated rules and if he even attempts to touch a single one of my friends he will lose his fucking balls. Tell my father, your lovely husband, that if he touches a single hair on any of their heads I will take his genitals and hang them around your throat." She leaned over the desk lowering her voice, "Just like I was fucking trained to. Leave my friends out of this."
She stood from the booth, taking the blue folder with her. She held it to her chest as she stared down at Cecila who still had the smile plastered to her face. "You have crawled beyond his ass Cecilia. This is between me and him, not you. You weren't there so just fuck off."
Cecilia still smiled at her as she left the cafe, slamming the door that led to her stairs. She stomped up the stairs and threw her door open for her apartment. King lifted his head slowly from where he lay on the couch before turning back over to return to sleep. She smiled at her fluffy baby as she put her stuff down on the floor slowly. She slid the lock closed on her door before slamming the blue folder onto her countertops. She needed a release. Desperately.
Within just a few minutes she changed out of her school clothes and was wearing an all black workout outfit that laid against her figure. The fabric clung to her hips, displaying the curves she was proud to have worked back after many years spent fighting her body for recovery. Esme pushed her furniture out of the way in her living room, creating a large gap of space in the middle in which she had wide access to the sunlight that streamed in through the large windows in front of her. Esme's phone pinged just before she threw it to the couch, she opened the message suddenly feeling light headed again.
*God be nicer to her for once. To think I raised you to be more respectful. Be at school tomorrow, otherwise darling Kim may not stay innocent to what you have been trained to do. I could always deal with more women on my team.*
She threw her phone to the couch before turning to the window that lay in front of her. Trained. Trained to do. She wasn't trained, she was forced. Forced to learn, forced to practice. She was never trained by her father or his henchmen. She trained herself, kept up to date with her workouts, learnt the best ways to throw a punch, and dodge another opponent's throw. She was good, excellent, one of the best but she was never trained because of him. She felt her bare feet scratch against the wooden floor and with a deep breath allowed the floodgates of memories to open in her brain. She started the workout slowly, keeping up to date with her training.
Esme continued to push her screaming body past its limits as she lunged forwards, ducked down and threw punch after punch into the air in front of her. Each time imagining a different face connecting with her fist. One. Two. Three. An hour to two had passed before Esme walked to her cupboard saturated near the laundry, pulling out a specific set of weapons. Today she chose to slide her signature knife into her hands, wrapping her fingers around the handle as she returned to her spot in the middle of her living room.
Sweep. Duck. Stab. Role. Sweep. Duck. Stab, Stab, Stab. Role. Sweep. Duck. Stab, Stab, Stab, Stab, Stab, Stab...
Esme continued pushing the knife into the air as her chest constricted, her hands felt dirty and muddled with thickness as she plunged the knife over and over again. How many times had that sequence led her to do something a teenager should have never done, let alone even seen in a movie. Her knees gave out from under her and she collapsed to the floor, clutching her head between her bandaged hands. Esme felt wrong all over as she stood from the ground, grabbing the knife. She analyzed it closely for any blood, any sign that the dirtiness, the thickness coating her hands was real, that it wasn't her memory playing tricks on her. Thankfully it was just her mind playing tricks as she closed the cupboard that now held the sacred knife once more. She stumbled into her bedroom and fell onto the bed passing out within seconds.