MOVED TOO FAST
Mathilda’s POV
“Please… can I get a cup of water?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
The sound that comes out of my mouth doesn’t even feel like it belongs to me. It’s scratchy, like it might break if I push it any harder.
My throat burns, sore from days of talking to walls and a man who answers mostly with silence, I hadn’t realized just how hoarse my voice had become until the sound startles even me.
I swallow, trying to ease the dryness, but it doesn’t help much.
I am exhausted.
Not physically not entirely but mentally, emotionally, in ways I don’t have words for anymore. Tired of performing different versions of myself just to see which one might finally make him crack.
I have tried everything.
Every skill I have ever learned about people, about manipulat
