Page 65 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

“More.”

Now my ass is sticking out.

Hot, shameful tears fill my eyes. I try to blink them away, but they just end up rolling down my cheeks.

I squeeze my eyes shut when Miriam flips up my skirt. I’m convinced she’s going to tug down my underwear, but possibly to spare my modesty, she doesn’t.

There’s silence. Then I hear Zachary dragging on his cigarette, the dried tobacco leaves crackling faintly as they burn.

Thud.

Pain thumps into me. I gasp in surprise, vaguely proud I didn’t scream.

Thud.

That wasn’t so?—

Thud.

I yelp in pain. Choke on a ragged sob.

Thud.

My legs go out. The pain of my knees cracking on the wooden floor is nothing compared with the dull aching throb on my ass.

This is hell.

Sister Miriam is the Devil.

She loops her arm under my waist and drags me back to my feet. “Can you stand, or does Brother Zachary need to hold you up?”

“Stop,” I manage in a breathless whisper. “P-please, just stop!”

“Six more, child.” There’s a sudden catch in Miriam’s voice. “You can do this. But you have to stand.”

I manage a nod.

Thud.

I can’t help it—I let out a wretched howl of pain. I’m in danger of scraping my nails off on the desk.

What could I possibly have done to deserve this?

I can end this, though, can’t I?

If I tell Miriam it wasn’t me.

I’ll tell her to fetch Gabriel. He’ll vouch. Tell him I’ve been set up.

Thud

Another howl, this one stronger than the last. Somehow that helps with the pain. I’m panting now; loud, ugly sounds only an animal can make. My cheeks are wet with tears. My face scrunches up as I fight the urge to collapse on the floor.

Thud

My ears start buzzing.

My legs give out.

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