Teenage Bones

In Your Place

Sun rushed through the blinds, onto my face at well as the sofa I was laying on. Warmth on my face indicated it was indeed the day.

I was facing the ceiling and my left arm was laid out, and without even checking, I know there would be a needle sticking out of my arm. Without disturbing the needle and tube, I turn to put my face more into the warmth so that it spread across my face, neck and apart of my shoulders. Feet come closer and there is a clang as a cup is placed onto the table, the smell of coffee making itself known. I heard the sofa moan under Mr. Clarke's weight as he sat at the end of my sofa, by my feet.

"Are you going to drink the coffee or am I going to make you?" Slurp. "I know you are awake."

"Well, pretend not to know." I don't move or open my eyes.

"Drink the coffee. Seriously, we have a day ahead of us."

Groaning, I pull myself up and reign in the coffee to my chest. It tasted bitter when I drunk it and realized he had put in way more coffee than he had to. "Can't you go back to your own sofa?"

"No, because I need to talk to you." Mr. Clarke sets down his coffee and takes the needle out my arm without complaint. He must've put the Faetus in while I was asleep. Mr. Clarke wheeled everything away and say opposite me on the table, taking my coffee from me gently, and placing it onto the table without any noise.

"What was the spell yesterday?"

My back straightens and I can tell my his eye's twitch that he caught it. Shit.

"Well?"

"It was a bonding spell." Swallow. "That's all it was."

Mr. Clark's flawless and quick moves only register once I am pinned into the sofa, his rough fingers pressing into the sides of my throat, bruising my delicate skin. My hands tried to push his chest bank with all their might, but it was futile. He's going to kill me- he's actually going to kill me.

"I thought we came to an agreement, Esmé," He spat. His eyes were an inch from mine and my vision had started to blur with the presence of tears. "You are meant to stick to the rules. That was breaking them."

His finger somehow got tighter around me, making it harder to breathe.

With every thought, I tried to work out how he found out.

"So Esmé, are you going to stick to them or are we going to have an interesting day?"I felt his fingers press deeper into the sides of my windpipe. Black spots began to embed themselves into the edge of my vision. The feeling of my throat closing up, hearing myself struggling to breathe against his skin and the hasty beating of my heart just made everything four times worse.

"Well, are you Esmé!" He screams and it didn't sound like a question anymore. When my vision starts to darken, I panic and claw at him, earning some room for me to intake air, but it wasn't enough.

"Please." It sounded strangled and breathless from my mouth and he still held on. The only thing I could do was grab was ever invisible object I could wretch and hope my powers would work. Cups, plates, bowls and the whole kitchen explodes in a tornado of china and glass but Mr. Clarke still doesn't let go. Next, his sofa is tossed into the air and launched at his door, sending it into shreds of wood. He begins to cut off my airway. His eye was burning holes into mine as his furious temper told me what I already knew.

I am going to kill you.

After one more pull of my power, apart of the table tears off, sticking into his leg. With a pained scream, he drops me and I take the chance to scramble back and run to the door, cutting my bare feet across the china and glass. In sheer panic, it was easy to rip each lock off as if I had to throw nothing but a pillow away. With a silent burning scream, the door rips off of his hinges, falling to the floor.