Case 92 [18+] ✅

7

Leah Beau

"This is...this is absolutely stupid!" I groan out loud frustrated by the fact that I literally have no vowel on my letter board and that Mason is making the biggest words possible in this damn game.

"I have no fucking vowels!" I yell and he rolls his eyes at me.

"Just make a two letter word." He says and I huff placing my W next to the alone E making a WE. I am losing so bad. Mason smirks at me and then makes me WE into WETNESS. Dirty asshole.

"I don't wanna play this game anymore." I mutter pushing the board away from myself and crawling over to my pillow to lay my head on it.

"Oh come on! This is fun!" He says smirking and I throw his pillow at his face which he catches and places it at his side.

"This is fun for you. For you. Not me. I'm sleeping." I say now shoving my legs under the covers and Mason rolls his eyes.

"You are such a sore loser." He mutters putting the board on the floor along with all the letters.

"Yeah whatever. Now go to fucking sleep and let me sleep as well." I mutter turning off the lamp at my side and closing my eyes.

"Fine." He says turning off the lamp at his side as well and getting inside the covers. I close my eyes to go to sleep.

"Do you have any siblings?" I suddenly hear him asking and I freeze as old memories come flushing back to my mind.

"Why are you asking me that?" I ask him not turning around but fully aware of the conversation we are having.

"I used to have a sister." He says and I turn around in the bed to face him and see him staring up at the ceiling with his arms behind his head. He is in deep thought, maybe memories are passing through his head as well, playing right in front of his eyes. Used to. The only thing that could mean was that she isn't here anymore.

"Oh." I say not looking away from his face, suddenly not knowing how to act or what to say.

"She died today. She was four years old. I was nine." He begins and I feel a pang of guilt for being so rude with him today not knowing what this day meant for him. I hesitate before I speak up.

"What was her name?" I ask him lightly and he turns his head to look at me. Something crosses his features and for a moment it looks like pain, like he is in anguish right now and he's trying his best to hide it. Nothing can be more dangerous in the world than showing pain to people so that they know your weakness. You can't show your weakness to the people in this world, they will all try to use it against you to knock you out cold from this world and send you in a pit of darkness filled with hopelessness.

It's a cruel world with crueler people.

"Lily. Her name was Lily." He whispers and I see tears brimming his eyes. He's trying his best to hold back the tears, hold back the weakness from showing.

"That's a nice name." I whisper. He didn't need pity from me. No one in pain needs pity, they need solutions which will never be easy to find or give.

"I had a sister too, you know." I begin. This time he turns his face to me again and doesn't look away.

"She was 3 years older than me and my house... Fluctuated between happiness and madness. It all depended on my father's mood. She got tired of it and ran away when I was 5 and two days later the police came to our door saying that she was raped and killed by a group of men." I say this time trying to hold back my own tears at the memories.

"I saw her leaving. I could have stopped her but I didn't. Maybe she would have still been here if I did." The pangs of guilt in my chest hit me harder every second as I tried to ignore the pain in my chest and the lump in my throat.