The door closes with a resounding click. The night air cooler than normal, maybe cause my blood is running too hot. I wanted to go back in, to try to explain, to rage , to do something. But I don’t. “Running away again “ i freeze. I don’t turn , I know the figure. It the same face shown in my blade, every puddle. “Oh acknowledge I am here that a first” “ shut up. You nothing, just figment brought on from blood-loss” ,it scoffs “Real enough to know you being a fucken dumbass” it continues “cause really telling someone who home got destroyed they should run , wow a class a fuck up” “ that not what I meant “ I say “ I just don” it interrupts “what understand? Of course not, how could you” the words stab though me worse than any arrows “ shut up” it continues “how could you , you have nothing, are nothing, any one or anything that even remotely cares for you, you push away “ “Shut up” “after all you know you don’t deserve it . If you did you wouldn’t have been left behind by your parents, someone might picked you up from the orphanage, hell maybe you wouldn’t need to have skill to be useful “ I cover my ears as if that would stop the onslaught, like I was a kid who could hide from lighting under their blanket “ but we both know that not you cause if you where a actual person, you would have taken the offer the only person who ever cared about you offered “ it voice lowers like it telling a secret that shouldn’t be said “ if you deserved more, you wouldn’t have abandoned Bess” “SHUT UP” I turn and swing, my fist slams into the stone walls of the bathhouse, my knuckles split , my breath leaves in angry breaths. I stand there for some time , the splits in my knuckles leaking blood , like they are vents spilling heat of my rage. I recite the first thing I learned from a medical book “first clean the cut, then wrap in bandages, this prevents infection “. As I wrap my hand I feel a trickle of water slid down my cheek. I rub at it and pull my hand back, it is wet. Fucken rain , what is is always rain.