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datatime: 2022-12-08 00:53:26 Author:wSEimYOg

He shook his head. I let this happen. I'll get him out.

Why do you have to be the toughest, the bravest? Why can't you, just once, let me do something for you? Going down in the hole doesn't scare me. Let me do this for you. Please. His voice was still soft, and he was leaning into me enough so that I could smell the drying blood on him, the richness of fresh blood in his mouth, as if some small cut had not healed completely.

Then why do it?

I shook my head. I'm not competing with you, Richard, or anyone else. I don't give a shit who's better or faster or braver.

I held my hand out for the flashlight.

Why? Why do you need to know that? You've proven to me and everyone here that you're tough. You don't have anything left to prove to us.

Because it scares me, and I have to know if I can.

And I can taste fresh blood on yours, but I have to do it because it scares me.

And I can taste fresh blood on yours, but I have to do it because it scares me.

I shook my head. No. He's mine.

Why? and the anger was more than a faint hint now.

Why? Why do you need to know that? You've proven to me and everyone here that you're tough. You don't have anything left to prove to us.

I held my hand out for the flashlight.

I looked at him, at the puzzlement in his face, his eyes, which had bled back to their normal, perfect brown. I'd been trying to explain shit like this to Richard for a few years now. I finally realized that he would never understand and I was tired of trying to explain myself, not just to Richard, to everybody.

Why? He studied my face like he'd memorize it.

And I can taste fresh blood on yours, but I have to do it because it scares me.

Just to see if I can.

He shook his head. This isn't courage, Anita, this is stubbornness.

Why do you have to be the toughest, the bravest? Why can't you, just once, let me do something for you? Going down in the hole doesn't scare me. Let me do this for you. Please. His voice was still soft, and he was leaning into me enough so that I could smell the drying blood on him, the richness of fresh blood in his mouth, as if some small cut had not healed completely.

He shook his head. I let this happen. I'll get him out.

To me, Richard, I have something left to prove to me.

He shook his head. I let this happen. I'll get him out.

He clutched the flashlight tighter. Why? And somehow I thought the question was about more than the oubliette and why I had to climb inside it.

Why do you have to be the toughest, the bravest? Why can't you, just once, let me do something for you? Going down in the hole doesn't scare me. Let me do this for you. Please. His voice was still soft, and he was leaning into me enough so that I could smell the drying blood on him, the richness of fresh blood in his mouth, as if some small cut had not healed completely.

Give me the flashlight, Richard.

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