My Secret, My Bully, My Mates by Miss L

Plink Drip. Plink Drip. Plink Drip. Plink Drip.

“Ugh.” What is that sound? And why does my head hurt so badly? Where am 1? I try to open my eyes, but they feel like they are being weighed down

by something. I move my eyeballs around behind my eyelids really slowly and then try opening again. This time I get light through just a sliver of an

opening in my eyelids, but everything is fuzzy. I blink some more willing something to come into focus.

Plink Drip. Plink Drip. Plink Drip. Plink Drip.

I squeeze my eyes shut, which actually hurts, then crack them open again and get enough body awareness to shift my head toward the sound that is

like nails on a chalkboard in this otherwise silent space. Finally I can see it. One of the faucets in the communal showers is dripping, I’m still in the

locker room. Why was I in the locker room? The obnoxious sound is coming from the water hitting the metal soap shelf and then the drain and

sending chills up my spine. I slowly move my head back forward, why am I so slow and groggy? Even thinking is hard. I don’t think I am standing, but

I don’t think I’m on the floor either. Huh.

I can move, what can I do? I can smell, maybe. I

try again more slowly this time, expecting the pain. Blood. All 1 smell is blood. My

lot of it. What the f*ck is going

for you to come out of that. You weren’t even hit that hard or given that much sedative.”

and makes me flinch. I didn’t realize there was anyone here with me. I wonder if my nose is broken, maybe that’s

smell my

on about me being

my toes, but I think I can feel them. My knees hurt which unfortunately is a good and bad sign, I have some sort of use of my legs,

I am bleeding, maybe both, but something is for sure not right on

around, but I don’t have the body control to even look at myself yet. This

whipping from

say something, but it feels like someone dumped a bucket of sand into

some spectacular bruising and broken

bother with your smart*ss remarks. I’m just here to tell you to stay away from the twins, permanently. They are mine and

the little air I can take in. 1 am for

them.” Kick to my other side. At least two people are helping her. “And stop trying to

“They. Are. Mine.” I try to focus on where I hear her