Don't Play With Fire (Turks FFVII)

XXV) Sick as a Dog

Tears soak my sleeves, my throat sore as my breaths catch and my lungs cry for air. It's dark, cold, and tight. The only light comes from the slats in the wood. I remember when Mike locked me in here all those years ago. I was, what, four? I was so scared, hearing those voices for the first time. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see, and I couldn't break the doors open until my mother came home and scolded my brother. It was just the two of us then. I remember how big her belly was as she lugged the twins around. I remember that Dad used to stay sober back then.

Now, this closet is my only source of comfort. Here, I can listen to the voices in peace. I don't have to tell Tseng who my mother hit today or that I failed another test in school. My father can't tell me to shut up because his head hurts and the boys can't tattle to me as they push each other around. Here, I'm safe.

You need to leave soon.

I know.

I can help.

Let me figure this one out by myself.

I'll be here if you need me.

Thank you.

Sniffling, I wipe my running nose on the cuffs of my sweater's sleeves and lean back against the closet wall. I know Tseng will come looking eventually, but for now, I want to be alone. I can't be trusted anymore, and I understand, I guess. I don't know what he did or who his friends are, but no one ever came knocking to talk about Jake and Katie. Weird.

I jump when the door swings open, burying my face in my hands when the blinding hallway lights blare into my eyes. Mike grunts, grabbing my elbow and dragging me to my feet.

"Get up, toothpick." Turning his head back to the stairs, he shouts. "Found 'er, Uncle Tseng! She was hiding in the closet again." He lets go and I stumble, catching my balance on the railing.

"Mike, why can't you just leave me alone?" I sniff, letting my hair cover my face.

"Why're you crying?" he counters, slamming the door shut. "Talkin' to your voices again?"

"Why's it matter?"

"Why's it—" He scoffs, forcing me around by grabbing my shoulders and twisting sharply. "Kat, you've killed people!"

"It's not me—"

"#$%^&*(%^!" He laughs, bitter as he crosses his arms and walks away. Soon, I realize it's because Tseng's coming up the stairs. "What's next, us?!"

"I would never—"

"That's enough, Michael," Tseng interrupts. My brother, ever-adoring, nods obediently and heads downstairs to keep our younger brothers entertained. Sighing, Tseng turns back to me. "Are you alright?"

"I'd be better if you'd let me be."

"You know I can't do that."

"Tseng, I'm not the one—"

"It's your body, Anna. Take control."

"That's not how it works." I hug my arms to my body, kicking at the wood floor with my bare feet. Part of me prays I'll get a splinter. "Professor Hojo says it's in my cells."

"And you are those cells, Anna, so it is you." He shakes his head. "I understand, I promise. But that doesn't mean you can do whatever you want. There are consequences."