Page 39 of Hidden Echoes

He just looks away, his disinterest palpable, and I shake my head, deciding it’s probably best to move on.

Weird boy.

I like the noise of music.

But I really don't like the noise of people.

Go to a quiet place.

But then I saw Zane. He looked so calm, so focused, his hands steady as he drew the art on the skin of the girl in front of him.

There was something almost hypnotic about watching him work, as if nothing else around him mattered.

Until she laughed.

The high-pitched sound of her laughter pierced my ears, and my eyes narrowed immediately. The girl, blonde and thin, was leaning forward in her chair, looking at him with an expression that made me stiffen. She bit her lip in a way that… wasn’t right. I knew what she was doing.

"You're really good with your hands, aren't you?" she said, her voice too honeyed. "I don't think I've ever been tattooed by someone so... talented."

My heart began to beat faster, each beat seeming to echo in my head.

The voices whispered, telling me what I already knew.She's flirting with him. She wants him.

They are here, the voices have not left me. Sometimes I need to concentrate to stay in touch with my reality, but those occasions do not happen as often as the voices. The voices are always there.

Because we protect you.

My vision blurred for a second, and all I could see was the way she was looking at him. My body moved before I could control it.

I was standing next to the tattoo table, and my hand gripped her wrist tightly, harder than I intended. Her fake smile instantly disappeared, replaced by a look of pain and surprise. I liked Zane and wanted to keep him for myself, I didn’t like the idea of people touching what was mine.

I always hated sharing. One always used to annoy me about it. He would purposely take my things. Only because he liked it when I got out of control. Because if I did it would mean there would be blood. But Katie hated it when we made each other bleed.

And I hated seeing Katie sad.

"Let him go," I said, my voice low but thick with anger.

Zane stopped tattooing instantly, his eyes flicking up to me in alarm. “Mia, what are you doing?”

The girl tried to pull her arm away, but I didn't let her. I could feel the blood pulsing in my hands, I could feel the fear and despair growing in every part of the girl's body and it was kind of funny.

I miss playing. People who touch things they don't deserve should be punished.

"Mia, let her go," Zane said more firmly, but his voice was still calm, trying to reach me. I could see the tension in his shoulders, like he was trying not to scare me anymore.

He never could.

“She’s touching you,” I replied, the words coming out harsh, almost like a growl. “They can’t touch you.”

Zane put down the tattoo machine and stood, approaching me cautiously, as if he were approaching a cornered animal. “Mia, she’s not doing anything. She’s just a client. You can’t… you can’t hurt people like that.”

I squeezed the girl’s wrist once more before letting go. My breathing was rapid, and my head was spinning from the noise around me. Zane’s gaze was fixed on me, not with anger, but with concern.

"I know this sounds weird," he continued, his voice low, just for me, "but you have to trust me. No one here is going to hurt you. And you can't attack people.”

I stood there for a moment, trying to make sense of it. The girl was holding her wrist, her eyes wide, like she didn’t know whether to cry or scream. And the voices… they were still there, telling me that Zane was wrong, that I was right.

But for some reason, I wanted to believe him.

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