"Jean Harrison," the words tumbled out of my mouth.
He scrutinized me, wrinkles showing doubt on his face. "Jean Harrison?"
"Yes," my breath came quick and fast, trying to catch up with the lie i had spun for my own protection.
He chuckled to himself then pressed harder onto my kneecap, almost taking the bone out of the socket completely. I did not whimper in pain but instead looked at him head-on, hoping to God that he would believe me.
He snapped out his leg, dislocating it and making me cry out.
"Where is it?" he hissed, pulling my up to his height, one of my legs dangling uselessly below me.
How did he know i was lying?
Crystal blue pools blazed with fire, boring into my skull as if they could climb in and take the information for themselves. The small leather book clutched in my left hand began to slide from my grip.
I felt the heat of the volumes blazing in the corner of the room.
He dropped, me, and I landed on the injured leg, causing my to cry out in agony.
"Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, taking The Chronicles of Narnia and feeding them to the flame, one by one. The Magician's Nephew, The Horse and his Boy...
I could not bare to watch and instead dug my fingernails into the cover of the one book that mattered.
He lifted one of the books and slid his fingers over the cover. "I've read this one. Fahrenheit 451."
I shuddered at the mention of the story. How long before it came true?
He ripped the cover from it, throwing it to the flame. His stare pierced me as he said, "The temperature at which books burn," and hurled the rest into the fire.
He scrutinized me, wrinkles showing doubt on his face. "Jean Harrison?"
"Yes," my breath came quick and fast, trying to catch up with the lie i had spun for my own protection.
He chuckled to himself then pressed harder onto my kneecap, almost taking the bone out of the socket completely. I did not whimper in pain but instead looked at him head-on, hoping to God that he would believe me.
He snapped out his leg, dislocating it and making me cry out.
"Where is it?" he hissed, pulling my up to his height, one of my legs dangling uselessly below me.
How did he know i was lying?
Crystal blue pools blazed with fire, boring into my skull as if they could climb in and take the information for themselves. The small leather book clutched in my left hand began to slide from my grip.
I felt the heat of the volumes blazing in the corner of the room.
He dropped, me, and I landed on the injured leg, causing my to cry out in agony.
"Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, taking The Chronicles of Narnia and feeding them to the flame, one by one. The Magician's Nephew, The Horse and his Boy...
I could not bare to watch and instead dug my fingernails into the cover of the one book that mattered.
He lifted one of the books and slid his fingers over the cover. "I've read this one. Fahrenheit 451."
I shuddered at the mention of the story. How long before it came true?
He ripped the cover from it, throwing it to the flame. His stare pierced me as he said, "The temperature at which books burn," and hurled the rest into the fire.
