The Rewinder

Chapter Six

Erik, who had been silent since I'd asserted my dominance, stood up. "Aphrodite, we didn't want to have to do this. But we have Ben."

I froze. Ben is being mentioned. Again. How many times is that so far? I go so long without even hearing about him, and now he's being used against me. Well, jokes on them, because I don't give a kangaroo hoot about Ben anymore. I opened my mouth to tell them that, but instead a sigh came out. "Okay," I said, dropping the gun. But I wasn't taking my arm off of Lisette's neck. I had her in a vulnerable position-and call me a sadist-I enjoyed it.

Remembering that she could read every thought I had, I thought back to every book I had read. In those books, they're always saying to build mental brick walls. First I searched my mind, found Lisette and shoved her out. As I did so, Lisette jumped, probably from being forced out so violently. Then I built my walls. When I finished building my bright blue brick walls (I'm a fashionable girl.), I heard her yelp slightly in surprise.

"Didn't expect me to figure it out on my own, did ya?" Feeling victorious, I removed my arm from her neck, smirking.

Her fist flew toward my face, but I dodged it, old habits kicking in. When I was younger, for a while my brother and I lived on the streets. We had to survive, and being defenseless just wasn't going to cut it. So I stabbed, shot, and fought my way to being feared.

"How are Mitch and Betty?" Lisette snarled. The first parents Ben and I had ever known.

"Dead, thanks." I sneered. I tried to kick her, but she swerved.

When we were just a few months old, we were kidnapped from our birth parents, Kim and John. Our takers were Betty and Mitch, who, when he drank, was very violent. And you could never catch him sober. Betty and Mitch were the poster people for white trash. Mitch, with a potbelly, always in a wifebeater. Betty, who was never caught without her cigarette, in a robe and hair curlers.

"What a shame. They seemed nice." Like hell. Mitch would beat Betty and Ben everyday until I turned eight. Then he moved on to me. Being the older brother by a year, Ben would try to protect me, and in doing so, would get knocked out.

A month before I turned nine, Ben disappeared for the first time. On my ninth birthday, he came back, apologizing for the fact that he left, but he had to prepare my birthday present. He told me to go with him, and being a very excited nine year old, I followed him willingly. We lived on the streets for the next few years, sleeping where we could and stealing what we needed.

She swung out at me and I ducked. While she was finishing her motion, I got as close to her as possible, remembering that, whilst a kicking to the groin is a basic fighting move, it is also the most anticipated.

So I clawed that hag in the eyes.