Unbecoming Humans

Chapter 28

I spent the rest of the night in my father's lab, thinking over our conversation again, and again. I didn't know what I could do against Pi'ilani or my mother. I could not understand how they were connected, if they were at all.

Perhaps my mother had brought him in to wrest the ultimate title from me. Or, perhaps he was a wild animal freed from his cage. For all I knew, my mother had nothing to do with Pi's behavior, and she was just as terrified of him as the rest of us. I felt like an alpha dog who had lost control of the pack to a rabid beast.

I also felt isolated and alone. There was no one I could go to with my problems, without my mother finding out about my potentially rebellious intentions. For the first time in my life, I felt genuinely afraid. I had never cared about much of anything before, but now I had Nima. I held her safety above all else, but I worried that I had no power to protect her.

I worried, too, about the younger kids. I wanted them to have the chance to make the world into the hopeful, beautiful place they believed it to be. If I didn't step in soon, all they would know would be anger and suffering at the hands of Pi, the tyrant.

At some point, I drifted off into an uneasy sleep. I awoke the next morning feeling as if I had not slept at all. The small ray of sunshine was that my wounds had done a significant amount of healing during the night. I felt well enough to stand up out of the bed, which meant that I was free to leave.

A lab assistant stopped me briefly to check my vitals, before I made my way out into the hallway and back to my room. I groomed myself and changed into clean clothes just in time for breakfast. As I stepped out into the residence hallway, Nima came barreling towards me and gathered me into a strong hug. She paid no mind to the fact that we were out in an open hallway, and everyone was looking at us

"Are you okay? Shouldn't you be resting? I was so worried," she gushed.

"I've been better, but I'll live," I reassured her. I glanced down the hallway over Nima's shoulder and caught sight of my mother standing near the doorway. The expression she wore was unreadable, but it made me so nervous I thought my knees might give out.

"I'll take that." Pi had stepped out of line, grabbed onto Nima's arm, and was yanking her along to their place in line. He looked back at me and my dumbfounded expression. An animalistic grin cracked his face. I refused to acknowledge him as I took my place. He may have won this round, but he would not survive the next.

It wasn't until lunchtime that I noticed that Nima and I were not the only ones afflicted with Pi-related bruises. Blake, Takara, and Edwin also had visible bruises in various places on their bodies. I leaned over to Blake as we made our uniform march to the dining room.

"What happened?" I asked, pointing to the bruise on his neck.

"I tried to call him out after the match. I watched him go unconscious right after you kicked him. Technically, you should have won the match," he whispered rapidly. "He didn't much like what I had to say, so he pinned me to the wall by my throat," he told me, rubbing at the wound.

"And the others?"

"Takara stood up to him when he was mouthing off in class yesterday. He threw her against a wall. Edwin stumbled and fell into Pi after Pi tripped him on purpose. He made Edwin stand still after class, so he could punch him in the face to teach him a lesson about personal boundaries."

My blood boiled and I felt dizzy with rage as Blake finished speaking, but I felt powerless against Pi's merciless behavior. It would be several days before I would be well enough to face him in a fair fight, and I worried what he might do between now and then.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I was grateful to retire to my room. Despite my father's pep talk the day before I felt lower than I ever had. Along with my title, Pi had taken my pride and my dignity. To add insult to injury, he was working hard to keep Nima and the others away from me. He was cutting me off, although I wasn't sure why.

In the morning, I decided to go out for a morning walk. I wasn't quite up to the challenge of running yet, and I knew that Pi would probably be out as well, but I needed to get out into the fresh air. It might give me a chance to get my head on straight, and gain some control over my life back.

I dressed and went over to knock on Nima's door, hoping that she might join me. I rapped softly on the heavy wood. After a few moments there was no answer, so I knocked again. Still nothing. She must have been asleep still, or already out.

I went outside, hoping she might be there. I made my way out to the path and started walking. After a few minutes, I hadn't caught sight of Nima. I found it odd that she was still asleep.

Pi passed me several times while I made my lap around the path. Each time he tossed derisive remarks in my direction.

"Move it, sloth!"

"Broken nose slowing you down, princess?"

After a few taunts, I gave up on my outdoor solace, and went back to my room. I showered, hoping that the warm water would wash away all of the things I was feeling. As I dressed, the bell rang for breakfast. I went out into the hallway to line up. Everyone else was in the line, or on their way to it, except for Nima. Was she still asleep? I walked over and knocked on her door again.

"Nima? It's time for breakfast. Are you in there?" Not a sound. "Nima?" Still nothing. I cracked the door open and looked inside. I didn't see her, so I pushed further into the room. She wasn't lying in the bed, nor was she visible beyond it. I furrowed my brow.

"Close the door," Nima's voice rasped from the other end of the bookshelf standing next to me. I couldn't see her beyond the shelf, so I did as she said and walked towards where I had heard her voice.

"Ah, Aria dear, I'm so glad you could join us. I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't show." These words were spoken by a different voice, an avian voice, my mother. I turned towards her voice and what I saw paralyzed me.

Nima was there, her eyes wide with fear. A knife was held tight against her throat by a long slender hand. The owner of the hand - my mother - was standing behind holding Nima in place with the hand that wasn't holding the knife. A horrifying, triumphant smile sliced across her face like an angry, red gash.