"𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐦," softly uttered the doctor.
The diagnosis is clear; Alessia had lost the ability to utter a single word for nearly a month. Her parents, initially unconcerned, grew tense upon hearing the news, overcome by a blend of emotions that the...
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•━━ ❦ ━━☠━━ ❦ ━━•
"You're OK?" the older girl asked Alessia.
The little girl nodded.
The adrenalin had worn off and she had started to feel dizzy since then, but talking about it wouldn't help the matter and, above all, she didn't want to worry her friend.
"I'm fine, let's get this over quickly," she lied before grabbing the snail phone.
Alessia inhaled sharply as she picked up the receiver.
"I'm passing this message on to whoever can hear it, we need help." She paused, biting her lower lip. "The men on board are slavers, there are some three dozen children locked up in the hold from North Blue and... if you're marines, you should be able to locate us-"
A stabbing pain burned through her abdomen.
Alessia paused for a few seconds to catch her breath before clutching her stomach in silence. She hated asking for help, especially from the navy. They were never there when she needed them, and only intervened if the tax was paid. Otherwise, they tolerated the celestial dragons' behavior.
Alessia couldn't bear it, especially as the moment they set foot in Blacktown, not a single marine would have stepped in to save them. Knowing she owed her life to good timing, or simply to their shifting moods, was too much for her. On the Grand Line, however, they were their only chance.
Her lips trembled and the syllables soon flowed into her jaw like a cry from a heart prey to what was indefinable, halfway between rage and despair.
"...If you can't stop them from kidnapping us, prove to kids more naive than me that marines are good for something other than wanking off their balls when populations are enslaved, starting with the fish-men," she finished.
