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She didn’t move.

She just stood there, in the doorway, hands in her pockets.

She was smiling.

He was cornered. Couldn’t get out. She was in the way. She was standing there smiling because she knew that he couldn’t get past her and because she knew that he had to talk now and because she knew that she was going to laugh regardless of whether he spoke or not because she’d push him and she’d goad him and he’d do it even if it was just to get away because he didn’t want to be with him because they’d laugh with themselves and they’d laugh at him because he couldn’t speak because he was that new kid who didn’t have any friends and who couldn’t even speak without sounding weird and who it was so easy to make fun of. No. She was doing that. He knew it. She knew. And she wasn’t getting out of the way until he talked about it. Until she made him talk about it. Until he eventually gave up and spoke. And then she’d laugh. She’d call him a murderer. And then she’d never let him out.

No. He wouldn’t do that. He was… he had moved past that. He wasn’t going to be like that again. He wasn’t going to be that scared kid who he knew had people pick on him.

He wasn’t going to let her do this.

Because she knew. He knew that she knew. She knew that he had killed him and he knew that she had nothing but absolute contempt for what he had done to Barry yesterday.

He knew that.

So maybe he could use that. He knew that that was an absolutely terrible thing to do but he didn’t know if he had a choice about it or not. She was in front of him. She wasn’t moving. There was only one thing that he could do.

“Then…” He stopped, choking, slightly.

Breathe in, breathe out.

You can do this.

“Then I’d make you.”
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And What You Get, Isn't What You See · Electroshock Therapy