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I'll be honest, I had to go back and re-read the last entry (and some of the older summaries), so feel free to visit my Taking Liberty page and refresh your memory, or jump in the game if you're just starting the journey with us.
Liberty is starting to take an even darker turn than I thought she would when I first started. It'll be interesting to see where it goes from here.
Today I'm actually combining two week's words. I started writing the post a couple of weeks ago when the words were taint, willing, and plausible. I'm keeping that going along with adding today's words of descent, kill, and surreal.
I mean, really, I can't pass these words up!
For days after the incident, I still was in such denial that I couldn't admit it was a murder, I could still feel the knife in my hand and the sticky taint of the blood on my fingers. The rest of that day was still a blur, and I knew that for most of it Liberty was in control.
But after that day, for weeks, Liberty willingly stayed in the background, letting me go about my daily life without her presence hanging over me. It seemed that killing her mother, or rather using me to do it, had satisfied some need in her, and there was no reason for her to show herself.
I knew that I should be feeling better with Liberty keeping to her own space in my head, but the surreal situation I was in had me shaken. People started to notice that I wasn't myself. I started feeling tired all the time, almost constantly nursing a headache.
"Elizabeth?" A voice cut into my daze, and I jerked my head up, looking around. A few titters of laughter raced around the room. Mrs. Herrington was looking at me, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Elizabeth, are you ok?"
I opened my mouth, but no sounds came out. I shook my head no. The laughter had stopped, and I could now feel everyone's eyes on the back of my head. Next to me, Dena rolled her eyes.
"Why don't you take your things and go to the nurse's office?"
I looked down at my heavy backpack, weighing the plausibility of me making it down the hall with it. Shakily I stood up and bent to pick it up.
"I'll go with her." A guy's voice said from the back of the room. Even without looking, I recognized it as James'.
Mrs. Herrington nodded, and he walked up to me and swept my backpack off the floor. Slowly, I started making my way to the door. Even though I was avoiding everyone's eyes and staring at the floor, I didn't notice the foot that shot into the aisle in time.
I stumbled and started to fall. Laughter erupted from several directions and I raised my hands to try and stop myself. A strong arm slid around my waist and stopped my descent. James was now looking at me, not quite smiling, but not as serious as he usually was.
"Don't worry. I've got you." He said.
My heartbeat quickened, and deep down, I could feel a stirring of Liberty's interest.