knock on wood | howlett

iii. then

something to believe in ; young the giant

"again!"

she closed her eyes, tears brimming her lids. she moved her hands and gripped the boy's memory. she writhed and pushed it away from her.

she opened her eyes to see the boy her age, ten, anger on his face. his brow was furrowed and a vein popped out of his forehead.

"my mom, she killed my brother!" he yelled, remembering the distorted memory.

"no she didn't," she stated, trying to take back what she'd been forced to do. "they both died in a carriage accident. it's not true-"

"silence," the professor came behind her and placed a hand on her mouth, squeezing her jaw. "act on it," he told the boy.

the boy moved forward and his body smoldered, with each inch closer, she burned.

he placed smoldering hands around her neck.

"stop."

the boy's body extinguished itself. he let go and stormed out.

the door slammed and she numbly winced. she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet or the distant words the man spoke.

all she felt was a far-away pain.

"you will not act out like that again. you will not undo what you are told to do, do you understand?"

"yes, professor."

"go."

she left. her mud-covered shoes carried her unfeeling corpse to the fence. he was there, waiting in worry.

he saw her neck: oozing blisters, hand-shaped burn marks, and her pale body and face. he stood. she was a dazed sailor in a sea of long grass, but she made it.

"beck? becky, what happened to you?"

"t-torch," she muttered and coughed, bringing more pain, "he did it."

"my god," he ran a hand through his long, sweaty hair. "stay here."

he ran down a row between trees, she couldn't see his body anymore. she laid down on the beaten down grass.

she closed her eyes.

some time later, she didn't know how long, a hand felt her wrist for a pulse.

she opened her eyes to see james. she furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to speak.

"sh, beck. just stay awake," he then looked at her throat. he opened a bottle and poured it on the blisters.

"agh!" she hissed in pain. "why would you-"

"alcohol, it fights infection," he stated carefully. "i'll wrap it now, okay?"

"okay," she said weakly. soft, cotton gauze was wrapped around her neck. he was very careful not to hurt her anymore.

she watched him, he never moved his eyes from what he was doing. he helped her sit up.

"there you go," he smiled at her. "it should heal in a week or two."

"you're on my side of the fence," she stated. "how?"

"i climbed over," he stated simply. he was sitting in front of her, one leg bent with his elbow resting on it and the other stretched over the ground.

"why? i mean, why now?"

"i thought you were dead when i came back, your eyes were closed. and a thought occurred to me: you're the only thing keeping me going."

"ditto to that, james," she smiled at him.

"at least when your professor hits you, i know you'll get better. i've had burns before, cooking the apples or some other task, but nothing bad. nothing that scared me so much as yours."

"i'll be fine, it's normal here."

"normal here? what do they teach you?"

"we're different here, james. and if i told you, you would never think of me the same."

"you don't know that i'd think differently. maybe it's perfectly fine, you don't know."

"i do know. it's not fine, but it's survivable. someday, i'll get out of here. and maybe someday i'll be able to tell you. but today isn't that day."

he looked toward the horizon and she admired his gallantry,

"you should go back."

"i know," he said. he waited another moment, part of him wanted to go to the institute with her. he wanted to see it for himself, he wanted to understand what they really did.

but he stood and climbed, and jumped down to his side.

"see you tomorrow," he said to her.

"see you tomorrow," she said back and walked towards the institute. he waited until he couldn't see her anymore.

she watched her mud-covered shoes as she walked up the stairs and down the open halls and into the lunch hall.

she opened her eyes to see the darkness once more. part of her wanted to die. but the better part of her being wanted so bad to live.