16: Questions
Anyra
My head throbs against the pillow, my stomach rolling as I stare at the stained ceiling. Tears dry on my cheeks, their saltiness touching my lips. A knock sounds at my door, and Jenna walks through, her bright eyes filled with concern.
“How are you?" she asks.
I don't respond. Instead, I roll over on my bed and face the wall, my back to her. She walks to the bed and sits, placing a friendly hand on my ankle. I feel energy emanate from her palm, filling me with a strange sense of calm.
I sit up and blink at her. “How are you doing that?" I ask.
She smiles, pleased I'm speaking to her. Not that I was ignoring her, I've just not felt like talking.
She points to her torso, says, “Witch," and laughs.
I shake my head. “I'm never going to get used to that," I say
