Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
warnings: strong language, violence, arguing, ptsd, mentions of sex, mentions of self harm, allusions to sexual assault
song to listen to: smells like teen spirit, malia j
~~~~~
"Control...control...control...control...control...and control." Reyes finishes up our meditation circle, and all of us roll our mats up and put them in their respective places. Illyana and I didn't participate; we didn't close our eyes and take deep, controlled breaths. It's bullshit that she makes us do that. We regularly don't participate in it simply because we don't want to, and it's not like she can do anything to stop us. But today, I had a reason besides simply disliking it.
Sam has bruises on the left side of his face. One around his eye, a dark one right below on his cheek. There's not a doubt in my mind that they're self inflicted; none of us here would do that to him. The only one that even could would have to be Berto, but I know he wouldn't. He doesn't participate in anything that makes him feel anything too strongly, which also proves that Roberto da Costa has never had sex. Now, I'm not saying that to shame him because it's fine that he hasn't had sex-I haven't had sex, either-but it's just the fact that he brags about it. Even him hoping that Dani was a nympho shows how sex orientated he wants himself to appear to be.
But here in this cage, none of us have shown each other what we truly are. If I believed any of the bullshit that Reyes feeds to us, I'd believe that who we truly are depends on our personalities, not our powers. On what we do with our powers, not strictly what our powers are. But that's not true. When we lose control of our powers, when we wreak havoc? That is who we truly are. And nobody here has ever seen any of us lose control of our powers.
"C'mon." Illyana taps me on my shoulder, and I nod softly as we head down the hallway. I pull my romper; I could've sworn that last time I wore this it was not this short. I'll probably have to find something to replace it, but that's a problem for later on.
"Sluchitsya chto-to plokhoye." Lockheed's low, rough voice makes us both look at him as he rests on Illyana's hand. I furrow my brows together, looking at Illy. Something bad will happen. That is what Lockheed just said. Why would he say that? I mean, it's partially obvious that something bad is always happening here, or that something bad is going to happen, but that is horrible timing. He must just not be in a good mood today. That has to be it.
"Chto ty imeyesh' v vidu, Lockheed?" Illyana asks him, but he simply repeats what he said.
"Sluchitsya chto-to plokhoye." Illy looks at me, and I shrug. She takes him off her hand and stuffs him gently in her back pocket, and I grab a few pieces of paper off of my desk. I run my fingers over the marbles, an almost electric feeling in my fingertips upon touching them. I debate bringing them with me into the lounge, but decide against it. The chances of me losing one in there are slim, but the chances of Roberto joking around and taking one of them are much higher than I'd like.
