Anna blushed furiously as Ven hugged her, and even more when the master pushed them apart. She made eye contact with Ven, winked at him, and then spun around to face the master. "Well, I've not yet lashed out at anyone, even with all my other troubles. I don't see how keeping my other emotions locked up will be any different than it is now." But rather than wait for a sharp reply, as she was bound to get, she focused on her cupped hands again. The magic came to the surface with only the slightest coaxing. As she drew it out, a dull pain flowed into her extremities, up her arms and legs. She ignored it, focusing on not only making a ball, but then shaping it into other things. She shaped it into a ghostly blue cube, a pyramid, a heart shape-- and then a white-hot burst of pain through her chest, she lost her concentration, and fell to the ground unconscious.
She'd never realized just how tightly she was keeping her emotions wound, her thoughts and memories, to keep them from overwhelming her. Until, that is, she went unconscious and could no longer keep her mind clamped down so tight. The memories flooded her mind, and with them the terror and pain she'd tried to keep bottled up. If she hadn't just entirely drained her stores of energy, she probably would have hurt someone. But there was no strength left to lash out with.
Aerin.
Giggling, being tossed into the air.
"Helping" cook dinner.
Making ice cream and getting to lick the spatula.
Singing two-part harmonies of lullabies.
Then--crack, a scream, a shout of "No!"
And blood.
Blood spattering her blankets. Their blankets.
And Alex crying and holding her against him so that she couldn't see the carnage.
So that she couldn't see the dead body.
"She's sleeping, Anna. She... she won't be able to play with you."
Sleeping? Sleeping. She's just sleeping. But no she wasn't, and his voice cracked as he said it.
"No, no, she's not sleeping, she's dead. She's dead. Aerin is dead."
Aerin. Her big sister.
She'd not lived to see eight years old.
~~~~
"Anna?" The soft voice came from right next to her. She flinched, as much as the bonds tying her to this rack would let her. "Anna, sweetie, it's okay, it's okay, we're going to get you out of here, okay?"
"Let me die!" the cracked whisper came from her own throat. "Just let me die the way they killed Aerin. Just let me die here."
"No, Anna. They don't want to kill you. They didn't want to kill Aerin. Death is too merciful in their minds."
Tears on her cheeks. Hot, burning, stinging. Crimson tears on his white shirt.
"Then kill me. Please. Please. I can't take this."
"They'll let up if you're strong. If you show them that you won't break, they'll quit torturing you."
"How would you know?"
He hesitated. "It doesn't matter." He held a cup to her lips. Cool water. She drank a few sips, though her throat felt like it was on fire.
"You've got to be strong, Anna. Be stronger than they are and they'll leave you alone. But if you even think about letting yourself fall apart, they'll see it, and they'll torture you until you can never put the pieces back together."
"Why should I believe you?!" She meant it as a cry, but rather it came out as a piteous whimper.
"Because I survived it too." He lifted his shirt. She couldn't comprehend it. Red scars crossing his back, his chest, burns on his arms and shoulders.
A crash at the top of the stairs. "I have to go, now, or they'll find out I was here. I love you, Anna. Be strong, for me, and for Aerin." A kiss on her forehead. And then he left her to the darkness that wanted to swallow her up.