[1] ALEXA, and her hell ✓ [Editing]

I Spy ✓

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"childhood trauma does not come in one single package."—Dr. Asa Don Brown
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The 31st of January, Year 2024.

     "But, I saw—"

     "Hush up, child!" Petro is pass livid. "You. NEVER. Turn your back on a fight! Never. If you're going to run off, at least make sure you won't be stabbed in the back first!"

     Unconsciously, she massages the arm that almost got dislocated when she had suddenly turned away from her match. She didn't notice before, caught up in a frenzy to catch a glimpse of her friend, but the pain made itself known once her adrenalin died down.

     "Do you know who you were up against?" Petro pressed, carving her mistake into her skull. "That was Alan Whittaker. The best after you and Phillipeño. If not dislocated, your shoulder could've been broken..."

     Alexa hangs her head in shame, sulking quietly for the next few minutes Petro Moskal scolds her, until her belly abruptly rumbles.

     He pauses, staring at her for a long, hard second. Then he sighs, "Go have something to eat and never do that again."

     She nods eagerly, unable to keep hidden how badly she wants to leave his office. She hates being scolded by him in light of her past. Her surroundings always seem to be getting smaller and closing in on her when he speaks to her like that and she's always preparing herself to be hit. That's one thing Petro notices, yet speaks not of; her trauma.

     Quickly, avoiding eye contact, she rushes out.

—

     That night, she meets Phillip in her room again. They try to take it a little further this time and, though Alexa is a blushing mess, she deems it as normal and labels their interaction as nothing but curiosity. Phillip isn't really into it tonight, being stuck in an unexplainable daze. Eventually, he tells her to stop, she complies, but is a bit stunned. Her chest begins to ache and they both sit in silence.

     Phillip is still zoned out, unaware of Alexa's sudden drop of guard as her embarrassment, awkwardness and hurt are portrayed clearly on her face in wonder.

     'Is it something I did...?'

     He gets up out of the blue and finds his way out of her bedroom without a word, closing the door quietly.

     "Ha..." she exhales, clutching the material over her chest.

     The dead silence of her room is her companion every night, but this one is mocking and jeering at her.

     She takes a warm shower and slips into a newly bought nightwear; all lace, nothing significant, but the fabric is nice. Turning off the lights, she gets into bed and knocks out almost immediately.

     Soundlessly, she sleeps—something her friend is struggling with.

     Who knew that Katya is sleep deprived. It never showed. She's good at hiding it, just as she's good at hiding other things. Things that would get her killed.

     Sleep. Peaceful or nightmarish. Katya Sharpe gets neither. When she closes her eyes, she sees a forest green-eyed brunette, with a goofy smile looking back at her. She sees a black haired mop head, with unreadable heterochromic eyes watching her. She sees a blonde, tall boy with eyes drained of it's colour, cocking his head at her. She visualizes those she has gotten close to over the past few years.

     Katya is extremely tired, but she just can't seem to get a wink of sleep. She's too weary for classes which are said to be mandatory. She's missed so much and to her, nothing makes sense right now, she doesn't even want to be here. If she stays any longer, she feels like her life will just drone on without a real reason.

     And she cannot forget that real reason why she's where she is in the first place.

     "I'm sorry." She whispers to a sleeping Alexa, a duffle bag slung over her right shoulder with her belongings. "I'm leaving—earlier than I should—but I can't take it anymore." She giggles painfully in riddles, "Don't worry, I know a way out. Ryan and I were planning on it way back before we met you and Phillip. I was planning on it long before I met Ryan. By the time they realize I'm gone and they start searching, I'd be too far ahead for them to catch up..."

     Katya then sighs, hovering over the unconscious girl. Sadness clouds her mind. "I don't know how you do it, Lexy. For a girl that's been through so much, you go around like everything is fine with that blank face of yours. How are you so stable after all that? How are you still functioning? I envy you for having such a grip on yourself, it's almost inhumane." She laughs, "Yeah, sorry I read your profile a while back. It's what I do—background checks on everyone—that's not even funny..." She winces, "Anyway, I know this'll sound hypocritical, because I doubt my own attempts at being confident, but don't let anything or anyone bring you down, ever. And...and don't be like me. Used to the point where you can't even recognize yourself..."

     With a twisted face, Kat leans forward and kisses Alexa's forehead. "Bye."

—

     An hour later, the girl opens her eyes. It's dark out and there's a new sense of loss hanging around her. She knows she didn't dream of Katya's voice and there are so many ways she wishes to respond to the words of her friend. However, there's just too much to say.

     There's one thing Alexa has realized though, yet she doesn't feel betrayed. She knows that everyone has their own problems to deal with and she could tell that Katya's feelings were genuine.

     She might've been a spy, but she was Alexa's first female friend.

     "Goodbye, Kat."

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