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The girl asked more questions. She was taunting him. Alvaro could tell that. It was in her words, the things she was asking him. It was like what some of the people would say back during middle school. The bullies. The people he tried to avoid at all costs. They’d mock him. Make fun of him. If he tried to get away, if he tried to hide, they’d move closer. They’d ask if he was scared, and no matter how he replied, no matter if he spoke up or stayed silent, they’d laugh at him. If he spoke he’d say something wrong and while they stayed silent he knew that they were laughing at him and if he stayed silent they’d poke him further, do it endlessly until he finally said something. No matter what he did no matter how hard he tried they’d get him and they’d mock him and they’d make fun of him and nobody ever noticed and nobody ever cared and he was happy that they were all gone now.

The girl was one of those people. He knew it. She was taunting him and she was trying to get him to respond.

He wouldn’t. He moved. The rest of the steps up to the bag behind the chair.

He turned around.

The girl was in the doorway. He couldn’t get through unless she let him.

She had asked him another question.

It turned out that he had to respond, after all.

“I’d just rather… not be here, so it’d be good if you moved out of the way.”

She was in front of him.

She knew.

Maybe that was a good thing, for once.

He took a step forward, towards her.
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And What You Get, Isn't What You See · Electroshock Therapy