Manipulate

“Come on, Peter. You’re such a slow poke,” Nick states.

Peter holds me by my waist while I strangle in his grip. A washcloth from the bathroom showers is tucked in my mouth.

“How much further, Nick?” Peter questions.

“I’ll tell you when we get there,” Nick growls.

Nick leads Peter down a long hallway. He stops at a storage closet. God No! Not a storage closet.

“Throw her in there,” Nick orders.

I’m thrown into the closet head first. My head hits a wall. My head spins and all I can see are stars. The door closes shut with a loud bag. Nick glares at Peter.

“Tell her, Nick,” Peter urges.

Nick shoots a dark look at Peter. Peter looks away. Nick yanks the gag out of my mouth. I choke and sputter. My mouth is dry from the cotton washcloth.

“Abhaya, you are not going to let us lose this game. You mean nothing to this team. You should leave TID and never come back.” Nick spits in my face.

I feel shook. I shake my head. “No. I am not leaving. I was brought here for a reason, and you’re not going to tell me what to do,” I state.

“Well, if you don’t want to listen then we’ll make you,” Peter sneers.

My blood runs cold. My mind goes blank. “Hell no! You can’t control me. I am my own person and no one can tell me what to do!” I yell.

“You’re a girl. You can’t save yourself,” Nick sneers into my ear.

Without thinking, I punch Nick in the jaw. He stumbles back with a grunt. Peter trembles as I raise my fist to punch him.

“Please don’t hurt me. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he squeaks.

I lower my fist. I grab him by the back of his shirt.

“Touch me. Hurt me. Or even lay a finger on me and I swear to God, I’ll make you regret it,” I growl.

Peter nods and whimpers.

“Go!” I snap.

Peter opens the door and leaves the storage closet. I feel shook, hurt and exhausted. Hot tears prick my eyes as I rush down the hallway. I make it to the dorm and into the shower room before the tears pour down my face.

I don’t want to cry. But the tears threaten to fall. I’ve bottled my emotions up for too long.

I sit in a shower stall for over an hour before anyone comes looking for me. The water runs; hopefully drowning out the sound of my tears My shoes lay on the stall’s floor along with my shirt. My cheeks sting from the tears.

“Abhaya, are you okay?” A boy asks.

I look up. It’s Theo. I brush the tears away with the back of my hand. My face blushes. All I’m dressed in is a bra and a pair of leggings.

“Oh, sorry. I should probably leave now,” Theo says, looking embarrassed.

“No. Wait. Can I talk to you?” I call out.

Theo looks back at me. He looks stunned at my request.

“Sure. Just throw on your shirt,” he says.

I give him a small smile, and pull my shirt back over my head. Theo turns off the water and then sits next to me on the ground. He holds my hand in a way he’s afraid that I might break.

He’s afraid that I am made of glass and I’ll shatter at any moment.