I sat on my bed, pushing my body right against the corner where the headboard and the side wall met.
Brian came and went earlier. I put on another Oscar-worthy performance to convince him that I was OK.
But I really wasn't.
I was trapped in my room with a monster.
Karuhi was right.
"Bree," Senne said, with a deceptively soft voice.
"I'm sorry," I said back, automatically.
"That's not what I'm asking you to say."
"I'm sorry."
"Can we stop this now?" She asked.
"I'm sorry."
Hearing me repeat the same words again, Senne sighed.
She went over to the window, her hands in her pockets, turned her back against me. Her flame was back to being black, and the moonlight—as always—didn't reflect on her jet black suit. She started to explain things again—gently.
"Sometimes in life, Bree, mistakes happen."
"I'm sorry."
"A misjudgment, a slip of the tongue, clumsy stumbles."
"I—"
"Please just listen."
"I'm sorry."
Senne shook her head and continued.
