Think: Chapter Eighty-Two: Lockdown

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My Hero Academia Fan Fiction by Agent ARK 88

Warnings: This work contains blood and violence.

Chapter Eighty-Two: Lockdown

Light spilled into your room in the early morning, but it was quickly doused by the door that had creaked open, only to be slammed shut again. A tray of food was left on the ground. You weren't hungry. You curled up into a tight ball on your bed, ignoring breakfast, feeling your wounds from the previous day ache.

You'd forgotten how cold it felt while in the company of your parents. You'd often be left for hours with only the comfort of your own room, but they'd stripped the life from it. There wasn't a single ounce of what was left of your old space, other than what you carried in with your box from U.A.. Had they thrown it all away in their haste to relocate?

You sat up in bed, leaning your head back against the headboard and looking toward the ceiling. You shivered. Had it always been this bad? How did you endure your time with them day by day? Having lost what you'd been looking for all this time at U.A., you started to realize how your parents had been treating you wasn't normal.

You sat up a little straighter, placing your hands on your knees. Your quirk, fully awake and buzzing, was beginning to fluctuate again. Whether that was from not using it, or the stress, you didn't know. You breathed in a shaky breath. Maybe, you could reach your classmates from your new house, at least so you could properly say goodbye. It was a long shot, but it was worth a shot.

You closed your eyes, feeling strands of your mind glide around your head and lift your hair. Thoughts, thousands of thoughts filtered in and out of your stream of consciousness. If you could reach into someone's memories, you could do this. You would just need to focus. The air around you grew lighter, less stifling. You squeezed your eyes shut even tighter. Exhaustion took you by the shoulders and held you down from floating out too far. Your brain was scraped by the strain, and pain vibrated into your temples. Sweat pooled on your forehead.

Like a rope reaching its end, you were snagged back from going any farther. Your quirk forced you back. Your eyes flew open, and objects that had started floating due to your quirk came crashing back down to your floor.

"Anna? Are you okay?" your mother called.

You had just enough time to cover your nose before she came in. You felt the warm sticky bloody press against your fingers.

"Nightmare," you lied quickly. "Sorry to frighten you." Why were you apologizing? This was all their fault.

"Oh, sweetie. Were you sleepwalking again? Good thing we locked the door. You would have gotten out and ruined something," she said.

The door was locked? You hadn't even tested it, knowing full-well that being grounded meant that you were not to leave the room. If you'd actually been sleepwalking, you would have found your way out regardless. A locked door was never known to hold in your quirk.

Her gaze moved down to the uneaten food, and she scowled. "You didn't eat your breakfast? Why? Is my cooking not good enough for you anymore?"

"I wasn't hungry," you said.

Your mother shook her head in disappointment. "It's gone cold. You're such a wasteful child."

Your mother slammed the door shut again. This time you heard the lock engage, and a wave of uneasiness filled your chest. You pulled your hand away from your face, but your bloody nose was about as bad as you had expected. After cleaning yourself up, you went back to bed, losing time.

The next time your mother opened the door, she was dragging you to the family bathroom by the forearm. She was wearing loose fitting plastic gloves. You were only half awake as she forced you to sit on the edge of the tub. There was a box of brown hair dye on the counter, and the contents had been strewn across the sink.

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