The room was silent with the kind of silence that could become oppressive if one focused on it too long. Sherry was almost hoping it would become oppressive.
I’m sorry, she told her weapon again. I’m sorry. She didn’t want to break the silence; it was a comfort to her right then. Proof that she was safe and alone.
I know. Sherry curled up into a tighter ball, pulling the blankets up over her head. She’d showered and crawled into bed, hoping to sleep. I’m so sorry. She’d almost gotten herself killed just because she couldn’t stand to let Jason be bully. No, that wasn’t it. She’d almost died because she’d let herself lose her temper. The shivering started again, and Sherry pulled the blankets tighter around herself. She felt more numb than cold, more empty than afraid.
She’d nearly died before. Had died, more or less. So many of those times events had been wholly out of her control. This was not. This was a fight she’d picked, and a fight she’d lost. Sparring with another hunter wasn’t even dangerous, really – unless one ended up too weak to fight back and the other truly wanted to kill you.
He had thought about it. Sherry was certain of that. The look on his face, the look in his eye all said murder. Protect his secret, the one she’d seen in the mirror. No. It was more than that. He’d have enjoyed killing her, just like he enjoyed being a bully, enjoyed rubbing in not only the fact that he’d won but that he was stronger than she was. She’s been a toy, something he could just kick around and then discard. She was lucky it had been a busier time of day, lucky he decided to walk away.
That was the worst part about it all. He’d had all the power, they both knew it. Helpless. Sherry hated being helpless. She’d been helpless before. The time when the walls closed in, the time when the crystals overtook her, the time when the creature of bone pinned her down and tore out a bone, and so many other times where there was nothing she could do. There was nothing worse than being helpless.
Maybe that wasn't the best way to put it. She'd not have been completely helpless. There would have been a struggle, she would have screamed, but he'd have still been able to kill her. Maybe that was the worst part, just knowing he had all the power then. All the strength. Just because she'd miscalculated. She'd lost and broke her shield, she'd been out of steam and he'd had enough she'd not have been able to do much of anything to stop him if he had decided to kill her.
She'd not wanted to cry again so soon, but it was happening. At least there wasn't anyone around to laugh at her this time.
Sherry hadn’t felt this was in a long time. She hadn’t felt so helpless and useless and trapped in such a long time, but now she wondered how she’d forgotten how it felt. It shouldn’t be this way. She should be strong enough to fight back, strong enough to handle someone like him. She should be strong enough to not have to feel this way.
No. If she were, then this wouldn’t have happened. She wouldn’t be here now. Unconsciously, Sherry began to run her finger over the ring on her left hand.
She could be strong enough. She would be. She’d stop letting people down and she’d stop letting herself end up useless and weak and helpless. She had to. There was no other choice, no other option. She’s use the tools at her disposal to make it so.
