Word of the Day
She cried into her pillow, frustration more than despair. Her body curled into itself, the pillow squished between her face and her knees, her breath coming in harsh rasps. Her arm not stuck between the bed and her body punched the same pillow weakly, but repeatedly, over and over and over. Sometimes she could summon up some sort of energy and the fist made a small smacking noise into the cotton. Self-hate had settled on top of her, thick and unyielding, a physical thing.
There was a knock on the door, a harsh bark, a scuffle of shoes. She peeled her face from the pillow, eyes blank and unfocused, adjusting her scraps of clothes. Took weak steps, steps to that hard, heavy door, steps outside. The shackles she felt on her ankles made no sound; she couldn't tell if they were real or if... They had always said they'd take everything from her, take or break.
Her most prized possession, the one thing they couldn't take from her, was slowly being destroyed.
MYRMIDON: noun. a loyal follower, especially one who executes orders without question.