“We are not done yet,” she whispered, her voice low and dripping with malice. “And as for the chicken…” She paused, her hot breath fanning my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. I held my breath, awaiting her sinister confession of the potentially unsettling meal. My heart thudded in my ears as her smile grew wider.
“It wasn’t poisoned as you thought…” she said after drawing out the immense suspense; her words diffused the bomb of tension that had been tickling away inside me.
I exhaled deeply, feeling a sense of respite wash over me, my pulsating heartbeat steadying as my fear dissipated. I tilted my head to face her, my eyes flashing with resolve as I masked my face with an intent stare.
“You will never succeed in mentally tormenting me ever again,” I declared, my voice calm and even yet laced with quiet confidence.
Our eyes locked, both fierce and piercing, neither of us willing to back down in the battle of wills where dark intent lay at the corner of our minds.
A sly smile curled up on her lips, poised in disdain. The blink of her eyes was like the flicker of a snake’s tongue, swift and menacing, as if tasting the air for weakness.
The tense silence grew between us, our hearts beating a quiet whisper of defiance, each pulse a subtle declaration that we would not back down.
Erin’s eyes morphed into narrow slits, speaking volumes of her unspoken hostility masked by a facade. Just as our gaze lingered, Miss Ross’s voice cut through the intense silence like a slice of a blade.
“What the hell is going on between the two of you?” We flinched slightly and looked away, our eyes meeting a pair of curious brow eyes. Her brow furrowed, her eyes darting between the two of us, searching for an explanation.
Erin and I forced a smile, trying to conceal what was already palpable.
“I have been watching the both of you for a few seconds, and it seems you two are having a fight. What is it?” she said, studying our expressions.
I remained silent, glancing at Erin, who always seemed to come up with a sly excuse in every situation like this. But to my surprise, she was lost for words, or perhaps she was shifting the weight onto me.
“Have you two forgotten how to speak?” Miss Ross snapped, having lost her patience. Her eyes narrowed even more when none of us took the initiative to speak up.
I glanced at Erin one more time; both of us exchanged looks. I saw the smug look in her eyes and the triumphant smile plastered on her face. I couldn’t quite grasp whatever was going through her mind at the moment.
Defeated, Miss Ross slumped her back against the couch, seemingly giving up on requesting a response. As both of us were unwilling to give her one, she settled it with a curt grandmotherly warning: “You better solve your differences…”
I shifted away from Erin, escaping her ominous stare. Oh, I wished my feet were healed; I would have left her presence before all of this had begun.
Sulking in my breath, I avoided eye contact with both of them.
As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that Erin was plotting something. Her smug expression and triumphant smile lingered in my mind, fueling my suspicion. I knew I had to be careful, for I was trapped in a web of secrets and lies, with no clear escape.
Miss Ross’s warning echoed in my mind, “You better solve your differences…” But how could I, when Erin seemed determined to torment me mentally? I felt like I was walking on eggshells, never knowing when she would strike next.
The silence between us grew thicker, like a fog that refused to lift. I could feel Erin’s eyes on me, boring into my skin, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
I stared at my bare feet, my body inching me to leave her sight. But I couldn’t, when I couldn’t even lay it flat on the ground without wincing in pain.
From the corner of my eyes, I could see her stealing glances at me, her gaze like pins pricking my skin. Exasperated, I sighed, looking at my feet again; I very much wanted to go to my room to leave her suffocating presence. Just then, the boring movie that I had even forgotten we were watching finally came to an end.
Blowing out a sharp breath, I stood on my feet, my face contorting in a grimace, but I fought through the pain.
“Sarah, what are you doing? Mr. Clinton told you….”
“Shush, will you!” I snapped, interrupting her feigned display of concern. My face turned sour as I met her gaze.
The hurt expression on her face left a sour taste in my mouth.
“Sarah Erin, what’s wrong?” Miss Ross stood with crossed arms, this time adamant on hearing the truth-one that she wouldn’t even believe-since the sly fox had everything under control.
“It’s nothing serious, Miss Ross,” I lied, slowly taking a step away from them. “I am tired; I am going to my room to get some sleep.”
I turned around, pushing through the pain. It took every nerve in me to continue walking.
“Erin, assist her; can’t you see she is injured?” Miss Ross nudged Erin, and she quickly strode to my side.
“Let me give you a hand…” Erin said with a wry smile, her gaze fixed on me, igniting our earlier tension like a spark to dry tinder. Her eyes seemed to gleam with a mixture of mockery and malice, as if she reveled in my struggles. She took a step closer, her hand reaching out to grasp my waist, but I jerked away. “I don’t need your help,” I spat, trying to keep my voice steady. But Erin just laughed, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Oh, I think you do,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. “You’re not as strong as you think you are.”
Oh, I hate to be helpless! I screamed inside my head; I had to admit she was right-my feet were slowly giving in, my left wobbling from pain. Defeated, I let her guide me to my room, her grip on my arm like a vice. I felt a surge of resentment towards her, but my body betrayed me, leaning into her support.
As we reached my room, Erin pushed me gently onto the bed, her eyes glinting with a mixture of triumph and fake concern. I hated her for it, hated that she had won this small battle.
“Thanks,” I muttered, trying to sound indifferent, but my voice came out weak and strained.
Erin smiled, her lips curling up in a sly smile. “Anytime, Sarah,” she replied mockingly. “After all, I’m always happy to help… for now.”
With that, she turned and left, leaving me feeling frustrated, defeated, and trapped. I knew I had to find a way to escape her grasp, but for now, I was at her mercy after setting the trap that led to my injured legs, the architect of my physical pain and helplessness.