Chapter 12

I fidget with the hem of my simple, black sweatshirt as my body fills with nervous energy. I recite the little lie inside my mind countless times, hoping the repetition might, somehow will it to be true.

I check the arsenal of weaponry that I dutifully covered myself with as if they were nothing more than some beauty accessories, to make sure that everything is in order. I stare at my reflection in the rectangular mirror stuck in the inside of my closet that my parents recently purchased, as I tie my short hair in a ponytail.

The mark on the right side of my neck is red and swollen, still healing from the attack I commanded a few hours ago. Despite that, I look menacing all clad in black with a belt firmly placed in my waist, sustaining the knives. A dark thin strap connects the leather to a tiny pocket in my right leg where I placed my phone.

I lower the fabric until it covers the blades to avoid unwanted attention from outsiders and sigh in frustration when a lock of brown hair