The Right Moves - The Game Book 3 by Hart Emma

Author:Hart, Emma [Hart, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-03-27T04:00:00+00:00

~

I stare blankly at my ceiling. The whiteness of it is so clean. So clinical. And it does nothing but remind me of the starkness of my room in St. Morris’s and the starkness I tried so hard to leave behind when I returned home.

My fingers twitch and my eyelids close and open rhythmically. They’re the only parts of my body that are moving. The rest of me is deathly still, and I can feel myself remembering why I hate white so much.

White is a blank canvas. Anything can be drawn onto it and anything can be projected, meaning anything can be seen. Anything at all – like a shadow puppet, or a crazy piece of art.

Or a memory.

A memory can form and instead of it playing behind your eyes, you could watch it on the plain surface in front of you. Instead of it staying locked up inside where it should be, it could break free, a movie playing only for you.

My hands, linked together by my fingers and resting on my stomach, tense. My eyes burn and my head pounds as a memory pulls itself up from the depths of my mind. I’m sinking, falling deeper and deeper into the past, flattening under the suffocating weight of it.

And everything stops.

I can’t feel my heart beating. I can’t feel the rise and fall of my chest as I breathe frantically, gasping and choking as I take in too much air too quickly. I can’t feel my legs despite my best efforts to move them, and my arms feel like lead weights against my body. I’m paralyzed, stuck in a day long past, facing a person I trusted and loved. Facing the person that betrayed me and abused me in the worst ways. Facing the person that drained the will to live from my body day by day.

It’s like I’m straight back there. It’s as real as the day it happened.

I’m shaking just as hard as I was then; I’m just as scared as I was. I’m still cowering under the cold blue-green eyes that pinned me in place, and I can still feel the throbbing of my ankle as I fell backwards. I can hear my voice as I pleaded with him to stop, to calm down, to just take a step back and breathe for a minute. I can hear my crying over his deathly calm voice, the one that was more threatening than any amount of yelling he could do.

And the worst, I can feel his skin against mine. I can feel the tightening of his fingers as he grabbed my wrists and pinned them against the bed, the heaviness of his body as he pushed me into the mattress, the soreness of his thumb digging into my jaw as he held my face level with his.

I can hear his raspy whisper as he quietly threatened me, and smell the lingering essence of beer and vodka on his breath as it swept across my face.

I can hear, see, feel.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.