What Do You Think They're Going To

You Won," Four Mutters. "stop." I Wipe The Sweat From My Forehead. He Stares At Me. His Eyes Are Too Wide; They Look Alarmed.

Yesterday He Told Me He Thought I Would Have To Pretend To Be Weak, But He Was Wrong. I Am Weak Already. I Brace Myself Against The Wall And Press My Forehead To My Hands. It’s Difficult To Take Deep Breaths, So I Take Short, Shallow Ones. I Can’t Let This Happen. They Attacked Me To Make Me Feel Weak. I Can Pretend They Succeeded To Protect Myself, But I Can’t Let It Become True.

Don't You Dare Try To Apologize." His Voice Shakes. "this Is Not Something You Can Bandage With A Word Or Two And Some Hugging, Or Something.

It's Not Often Real That You Encounter The Real Person Behind A Good-natured Mask, The Darkest Part Of Someone. It's Not Comfortable What You Do.

I Smirk As Peter Misses Again. I Can't Help Myself. "hey, Peter," I Say, " Remember What A Target Is?