Fear

15

Some hours later...

The room stayed the same — the light just a blank, sterile glow, indifferent to the passing hours. Time dragged on, no longer measured in numbers, just the ache behind my eyes and the numbness in my backside where I sat.

I stayed curled in the corner, legs folded beneath me, eyes fixed on the floor like it might open up and swallow me if I stared long enough.

James was gone. I hadn't moved since. My limbs ached, stiff and heavy, like the stillness had calcified me. My mind had drifted somewhere far off, half-submerged in something like sleep.

So, when someone knocked on the door, sharp and sudden, it shattered the quiet like a gunshot.

I snapped upright before I could think, adrenaline coursing through me. My body knew before I did. That knock didn't mean anything good.

I was on my feet in seconds, back to the wall, fists clenched.

It was instinct now. Pure muscle memory. The fear, the readiness. After Tyler, Dylan — everything. I didn't wait to see who it was. I readied myself, fists clenching, back pressed against the wall.

I'd lunge if I had to.

'I swear to God, if that's Dylan, I'm gonna fucking—'

The lock turned. It opened slowly.

It wasn't Dylan. I let out a breath I'd been holding.

Tyler.

He paused mid-step, looked at me, wild-eyed, fists up, backed to the wall like a cornered animal, and sneered. Rolled his eyes.

"Jesus."

He didn't move toward me right away. Just stood there, studying me.

"What, you gonna swing at me now?" he asked, head tilting slightly with an amused smirk. "That your plan?"

I didn't answer. Just stayed frozen, heart hammering, breath too loud.

"Put your fucking hands down. You're not scaring anyone."

He crossed the room without looking at me and set the tray down on the counter with a dull thud, not thrown but not placed with care.

The smell hit me a second later. Something lukewarm and bland. I glanced at it, then back at him, cautiously. My stomach turned — Hunger? Dread? I couldn't tell.

His mouth curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. "You gonna eat, or just keep staring?"

I didn't move. Didn't speak.

"You're getting on my nerves," he grumbled as he walked over. "Think you're so fucking special."

'Swearing more than usual... What's that about?'

I squinted. He caught it and smirked. Misread it as a challenge. Then turned his head to stare directly at me. I held it still, my jaw clenching at the same time as his.

I don't know where this courage came from, or if it even was bravery, but for the first time since arriving here, I didn't feel as scared of him. It was reckless, I know. Maybe even a death wish. But I wanted to stand up to him.

"Eat," he said through gritted teeth, a bony finger pointing to the tray.

My fingers tightened in my palms. I couldn't remember the last thing I ate. It'd been days since that trip to the cafeteria, and the stomach cramps were still there, I'd just learned to block them out over everything else.