“You’re crossing the line” he said.
“I don’t think so!” she shouted back.
Astilla had never felt what she was feeling now. It was like a toxic fume that must’ve traveled with the wind, because just as soon as it overtook her, it disappeared. Leaving her numb to her herself.
But Astilla had always felt numb. Even since that one time. That one time when Astilla was four and her uncle raped her in the swimming pool while her dad was flipping burgers on the grill. Which is why Astilla doesn’t eat meat. Not since she was four.
“I’m not who you think I am!” Astilla screamed as she aimed and shot her body towards the broken window.
There was a short silence. A deep one. If sound could even have a depth. This one would’ve been one as deep as Guliver’s Trench.
Then, a flump. Oh and you could tell it was a body, hitting the cement at god knows whatever speed. But enough speed to kill it. On impact. Or at least that was the hope.
Wasn’t it?
Elizabeth Ann 
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