Elizabeth stood at the doorway, a blacked out Morrigan slumped over her back. Juro stood beside them, trying to maintain his composure at the woman who appeared before him. Alyssa’s mom gave a smile, her lips too tightly pressed together. “I’m sorry, but I think you have the wrong idea. I don’t know how you know my daughter, but we don’t allow guests.” Her voice was sharp and cold.

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Look, I don’t care what you say, can’t you see she’s injured? We need help!” She took a step closer inside. Alyssa’s mom turned around to face Alyssa who now stood at the base of the staircase.

“Alyssa, do you know them?” she asked, her cold eyes challenging her.

Alyssa looked so anemic, drained, as she seemed to almost vanish into the white wall behind her. Voice barely audible, she responded,“No, I do not. But, they might be here because of that campaign we ran.” Her eyes turned to Juro, pleading with him to pick up on her message.

Juro perked up and quickly interjected. “We followed you guys here. We saw your campaign with Alyssa, about how your family speaks for ordinary citizens. We couldn’t afford the hospital cost so we came here.”

Alyssa’s mom looked defensive as she walked over to Alyssa and tightly gripped her shoulder. She whispered in her ear. “Get them out of here. These fucking rats disgust me.”

“You can’t do that. If they get this news out, you’ll jeopardize everything.” Alyssa was tall enough to look down on her mother, looking at her thinning hair. For some reason, she pitied her mother now, the way she was so small and too thin to carry all her hatred.

Her mother moved her out of sight from the front door before staring right at Alyssa. Drawing up a hand, she sharply slapped Alyssa across the face with her open palm, feeling the stinging in her hand. “Figure it out, Alyssa. Your dad and I are leaving to prepare for the event. Don’t screw up, and get them out of here as soon as possible.”

Walking back to the front door, the older woman smiled. “Please, come in and make yourself comfortable. I must head out along with my husband, but Alyssa will take care of you.”

Alyssa nodded before leading them upstairs, almost seeming like a ghost as she took every step up. It was as if her skin was a thin sheet, and although one could see through her, it was hazy and distorted. When she finally brought everyone into her room, she quietly shut the door behind her. She helped Morrigan off of Elizabeth’s back, pulling back her bed covers and sliding them over Morrigan.

“Dear God…” she whispered, sitting beside Morrigan who was still passed out. She ran her fingers through her matted, burnt hair slowly, trying to detangle it. Had Morrigan been awake, it would have reminded her of another woman’s long, weaving fingers. “What happened?”

“Wait, Alyssa, are you okay?” Bruno stepped toward her. “Your face, did she slap you? Your mom?”

“I’m fine, really. We need to take care of Morrigan.” She stood up, grabbing some spare clothes from her closet. Alyssa was much taller than everyone in the room except Elizabeth, most likely a result of how she never had to starve or worry about where her food came from. She was always well-fed, had a good education, and never worried about being harassed on the streets. She took the folded clothes and placed them beside Morrigan. “These might be a little bit big on her, but it’s better than what she’s wearing now.”

Elizabeth stared accusingly at Juro. “So, are you going to tell us what happened? You two leave in a panic and suddenly she comes back almost dead at the hospital.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Earlier today, Morr told Mr. Brown about her suspicions and how we were heading over to Elizabeth’s house. We went to the hospital as planned, but Morrigan freaked out and ran home. Turns out, Mr. Brown betrayed her, and a Leith killed Morr’s father and burnt down her home,” he paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath before continuing. “When she tried to heal her burns, she overexerted herself and fainted. We went to the hospital to regroup with Elizabeth then came here.”

Gasps filled the room at the devastating news, with many turning to immediately comfort Morrigan’s loss. Everyone in that room faced a struggle of their own and shared her pain. Morrigan finally opened her eyes, repeatedly blinking her eyes at the bright light that streamed in, tears forming at the corners. She groaned, trying to push herself up. “Shhh… it’s okay. Relax. You can change into these clothes, alright?” Alyssa gently reassured her, helping prop her up.

Bruno buried his face in his hands. “What are we going to do…” his voice trailed off into barely more than a whisper. “Juro, what else did Morrigan say?”

“She mentioned she was going to Elizabeth’s place. Since Mr. Brown saw me with her, the three of us have nowhere to go.”

Alyssa added, “it’s okay, you guys can stay with me for now. My parents won’t be back for a few days, since they’re staying at a hotel to help with the fundraiser. I’ll take care of you guys for as long as you need, but I can’t stop anything if my parents catch you.” She walked over to a small fridge in her room, taking out water bottles and placing them on her desk. “Let’s calm down for a second and make sure Morrigan is ok.”

Seemingly outraged by Juro’s suggestion, Elizabeth butted in. “Hold on, Juro, do you seriously expect me to just leave my family like that? What about Camila? If they killed Morrigan’s father, what would they do to her?”

“They would have reached your house by now. Either they’re already taken, and if they’re not, they’re working with the Leiths to have you arrested.”

“You seriously can’t expect me to believe that. I have to check in on her,” she took a step closer to him, her hands held in front of her as if in shock.

“Juro…right,” Morrigan whispered, shakily getting up before breaking out in a coughing fit. Bruno grabbed one of the water bottles and unscrewed the cap, handing it to her. “I need to use the restroom. I'll change right now, too.” She picked up the clothes beside her and steadily made her way down the hall and into the bathroom.

When she finally opened the door that led into a magnificently large bathroom, she turned on the lights. She untied her coat and gently took off her shirt and pants, trying to avoid folding them inside-out or getting them on any of her burns that she had yet to heal. She observed herself in the mirror clad in her undergarments and peered at the fresh, bumpy scar tissue that seemed to coat her skin. Pink, she thought. Color.

She scavenged through the drawers looking for a pair of scissors. She desperately scanned through, finding many miscellaneous bathroom items: cotton swabs, razor blades, floss, a toothbrush, tape, bandaids, and scissors. She pulled out the scissors and grabbed a strand of her hair, snipping off the dead ends. Her hair had been burned much shorter now, some strands being at the bottom of her chin while others at her shoulders. Every time she snipped off a strand and watched the hair fall into the trash can below, she felt herself cut a part of her mom, her dad, apart. Scar tissue, they became. Nothing but leftovers that would be overgrown by something new. Perhaps when the government dumped her mother’s dead, limp body, her blood started to pool inside her skin, and she’d look pink, too. Maybe some of her father’s skin was pink and fleshy, burnt alive before being smoldered in a black trenchcoat. Scar tissue.

Hello? Morrigan looked for guidance, someone to cling on to. Even though naivety had been stripped from her, inside-out, she needed someone to reorient her, fix her.

No response.

Hello? What should I do? Was there anything left for her to do? The rage that once filled her seemed to dissipate into the cool bathroom air.

[Remember it. All of it.]

What do you mean?

[Remember the hatred you felt. If you let it sit, it’ll become regret and guilt. Carry it forward before it does, and you may be spared.]

A sharp knock on the bathroom door made Morrigan drop the scissors, jumping back as it violently fell towards her bare feet.

“Morrigan?” Juro’s voice was muffled by the bathroom door. “We need to talk.”