You know what that distant sound of screaming is?

That's me realizing I've run out of planned chapters-

TW: torture

TWO WEEKS PREVIOUSLY

I stare at the door as I try to build up confidence. I don't know if I should knock, or just enter. The only think I do know is why I'm here. Because EX told the Principal, and they want to know names.

I enter the room.

Small, grey walls and an empty desk. The Principal sits in shadow; I can't see them well as I stand there, aware that I'm shaking.

'Sit.'  They signal to the chair and I obey silently, staring at the desk. 'You know why you're here.'

'Because I know someone with magic.' Is my reply. Stalling will only make things worse.

'Exactly. Who?'

Silence, as I try to work around the blunt question, I open my mouth to speak, closing it immediately after. 

'I don't know...I just know someone has magic and-'

'Stop lying.'

My mouth closes instantly at the sharp coldness of their tone. 

'Who has magic? Because I know you know their name. I'm not an idiot, Impulse.'

There's no correct reaction. I stay staring at the table, swallowing silently. 

'Or is there more than one of them?'

A jolt of panic runs through my chest. They're going to make me name all of them. All my friends... but I'm too scared to lie back, and my silence gives the answer anyway. 

'Ah. I thought so. But we'll start easy for today. I just want one name.'

'One name.' I echo.

'And they won't get into trouble. I just want to know, so I can talk to them about it.'

'Right.'

'So give me one name, and you can go free.'

I don't speak. The words stick to the back of my throat, and I try to swallow them down or say them. Nothing.

'I don't want to.' I manage to squeak out.

'Don't be scared Impulse, you're doing the right thing.'

As much as I repeat the words in my mind, I still don't believe them. 

'Or you make things difficult for both of us. And my desk's just been cleaned. I don't want to get any blood on it.'

My eyes widen, but I still can't speak. Give anyone away. I've done enough damage already.

'Fine then. Guards?' A snap, and one comes in through a door behind the Principal, walking over to me, expression blank.

'Are you sure you don't want to tell me?' 

My breathing's shallow as I fail to think of a way out of it, but before I can come up with anything, the guard's grabbed my arm. I let out a yelp of panic. My mouth quickly closes, and I still don't give any names. 

A sharp pain in my arm, and I dare to look over at it. Red trickles down it in rivulets and I whimper in fear. 

'I'll leave you to consider for a while. Guard, come on.' The Principal rises from his chair, walking out through the door behind him and, leaving the knife in plain sight on the table, the guard follows. 

I don't know how long I wait, left with only the pain and my numb brain unable to think of anything else, lest of all how to get out of this. All I can think of is escaping, but something roots me to the chair, paralyzed.  The door must be locked anyway. And who knows how much worse everything would be if I made a run for it. 

And then I return to thinking about the pain, wondering whether I'll bleed out. But surely they wouldn't just let me die if I don't tell them anything, right?

Right...?

The Principal and guard eventually return, and the conversation repeats. I still don't reply, and get gifted with another sting of pain before they leave again. The blood doubles, and I hold the wound with trembling fingers, barely holding back tears. I think they leave me longer this time, but with no way of telling, it's impossible to know. It feels like I've been here for days. It might just be five minutes. No one tells me anything, or what time it is, when they return again, even though I ask twice. All I guess back is a small laugh and the repeated question. 

I don't give in. 

By the third cut, I begin to feel faint, skin paling and brain scrambling over the concept that they're going to kill me. The first response I come up with is trying to tear the fabric of my top with the knife, and cover it up. My second thought is killing myself first. 

I listen to the first thought, cutting a large enough amount of material to cover the three cuts. I don't know how deep they are. I don't know anything any more.

'Getting resourceful, I see.' The Principal comments upon returning a forth time. 'You think a scrap of fabric will help you survive?'

My blood runs cold at his words. He sits down.

'Give me the name of someone with magic.'

I stare at the knife on the table. I could kill the Principal with it, and my unhurt hand itches towards it. The guard takes it before I can. 

'Don't get any ideas. Or it'll end up worse for you. Give me a name, and you can leave.'

My arm's in agony, screaming at me to answer. My brain fumbles over the fact that I might die if I don't. My conscience tells me to hold on, sacrifice myself. Another part of me says to kill the Principal with my bare hands and run. 

I do none of it, starting to cry. 

'Let me go.' I plead. 

'Give me a name.' Is the reply. 'They won't be hurt, but you will be. So why are you being so stubborn? Or do you want to loose more blood first. Or we could up the anti slightly and... remove something else. 

My hand curls, sending a ripple of pain up my bloodstained arm. I sob again. There's no way out of this, I repeat to myself. I either die refusing to say, or I let someone else die instead.

They won't be hurt. 

I open my mouth to speak, then close it. I've forgotten every name I know. In my blank fear, I think I forget my own, mouth open and tears scarring my face. 

'Ren.' I mumble, all but inaudible. 

'What was that?'

'Ren. Let me go. Please.' 

'Well done, Impulse. He passes over a healing potion as though it's some present for killing a friend. I take it, too panicked in leaving to think it might be poisoned as I drink it quickly, leaving the bottle on the table as I run away. 

(Oh noes that took up an entire chapter didn't it-)

NOW

I can't get his face out of my head. I can't get their howls of anguish out of my head. I can't get the crashing repetition of the truth out of my head. 

You killed Ren.

You killed Ren.

You killed Ren.

You killed Ren.

'SHUT UP!' I scream at no one. The room replies with silence as I continue to lie down on my bed, facing the wall, still in my notch-damned prom outfit. I knew he wouldn't be safe, as much as two weeks of silence almost convinced me otherwise. 

I thought the Principal might've told the truth.

I don't let anyone see my arm. Especially Skizz. He'll freak out, even though it's my own fault.

You killed Ren.

The thought stays with me until morning as I lie awake.

Skizz disappears and reappears multiple times the next morning. I ignore him and the sunlight streaming into the room, wishing it would all go away and let me be unproductive in peace, but also hoping I can build up the courage to say anything, cursing myself for being too late as the door closes behind Skizz for the third time. 

It's another couple of hours lying there until I can finally force myself to stand up. A note sits on my bedside table, that I definitely didn't leave there.

I pick it up, and read through twice.

I know what you did.

Talk to me when you feel better

-Skizz

Me after writing this: well this is quite the contrast to how long it took me to write the last chapter-

Guess I can publish another one today! 

How dare you past me for thinking I could publish another chapter-

I still haven't written the next one.