Chapter 16

Mila

I hate him! Loathe, protest, and secretly applaud his skill at mind games. I lost control earlier; actually, I lost it the moment I looked at Dash in that office. He made me feel—intoxicated, and I just lost it.

I still believe he will help free me from my life, and I ’ m not sure that makes me a bigger fool.

Dance practice was shit! I couldn ’ t concentrate, which made Mr. Leblanc angry, so he kept hitting other students who didn ’ t have my last name. Students he could prey on. Guilt hit me, so I have no choice.

I just need to feel in control.

Luckily for me, everyone is either getting ready for the spectacle that is The Cleansing or practicing their forced-upon hobbies. Just because it ’ s the weekend doesn ’ t mean we get a break. I have dance practice every single day. However, the girls ’ locker room is empty at this time. Just the way I need it.

I ’ ve never done this in the closed doors of my dorm. I fear if I did, I wouldn ’ t be able to stop. I ’ d do it every night. Make it too simple for myself. So I do it publically when no one is watching.

I grab the medical supply box and bring it to the sink. The scent of alcohol fills the air, burning my nose as I sanitize the tips of my fingers. Then, I pull out the safety pin from the supply kit and clean it as well. It ’ s supposed to be used to clip the bandage wrap, but I have other uses for it.

I just need to feel in control.

It ’ s just something small, just the tip of the pin; it ’ s only a needle prick. It ’ s not a razor. One little poke isn ’ t as bad as a cut from a razor blade.

I press the needle to the tip of my index finger, watching it indent a circular impact into my skin and then—

Zap!

My inhale is quick due to the sensation of the prick, but my exhale is slow. Controlled.

I leave the needle sunken only a small bit into my flesh, and then I pull it out, feeling another zap. I roll my shoulders, knowing this is wrong. It ’ s so wrong. I ’ m sliding down a hill that ’ s wet and muddy, falling.

Why fight the uphill climb? Just slide. Indulge.

I don ’ t want to do this. If I were free, I wouldn ’ t have to, right?

Dash ’ s voice echoes in my mind like a hauntingly delightful friend.

“ Just remember, Mila, being free won ’ t piece you back together.”

“ What will?” I whisper. Of course, the devil hears.

“ It ’ s usually the thing you fear most,” he replies.

What do I fear most? Maybe it ’ s that question.

“ What the fuck…” a deep voice roars, then hesitates as if he ’ s opening the gates of hell to drag me inside. “ Are you doing?” Dash booms.

Oh, shit…he just saw inside me again.

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