I've Got Thick Skin And An Elastic Heart Novels & Stories

Her skin was like ice, but her heart was beating against my ribs. *I’ve got you now,* I thought, a silent vow. *Elara, I’m done losing you.* The heat of her body acted like a sedative, pulling the veil of unconsciousness back over my eyes. I felt my grip loosen as the darkness surged forward, but this time, the void didn't feel so cold.

I did not know whether that was a kindness or whether Marcus simply did not consider me strong enough to be a threat. He was right not to consider me a threat. The pain in my chest was deep and constant. It was duller and heavier. The exhausted ache of a heart that had been pushed past what it could bear and was running on whatever reserves it had left. I pressed my palm flat over the transplant scar. It was beating slowly but still it was alive. I let out a breath I had not known I was holding. Then I pushed myself up slowly. My arms were shaking with the effort, and I looked around the chamber.

My legs are shaky, but my mind is crystal clear. Crack eighty. Crack eighty-one. I pull my torn skirt together. They are running out of ways to hurt me. And that means they are running out of power.

His chest was adorned with suggestive scratch marks. "My skin is sensitive. I accidentally scratched myself and it became like this. Cindy said your skin is tough, so you shouldn't have this kind of problem, right?" He meaningfully fiddled with the herb in the soup, and the smugness in his eyes was obvious. I clenched my teeth and could taste blood on my tongue, but it couldn't compare to the pain in my heart.

I promised myself again and again. Sincerely I was very bitter, wounded and in pain. It was like I was on a vengeance mission to disturb the men, torture them and make them suffer what I had been suffering instead of pain breaking me, pain was actually hardening my heart. My heart that was tender and delicate was becoming hardened.

It felt as if I was ravenous, my body eating Itself to stay alive. I got out of bed, walking towards the window. My eyes burning, I closed and opened them rapidly, adjusting to the light. The sun looked like it had just risen. I put my hand out towards the light, shocked by what I saw. My skin turned a brownish amber that was Shiny and slick to the touch. How best to describe It, I did not know? It was like my skin was glass, but not see through. Like I looked rock hard, yet soft to the touch. I looked shiny, not sparkly, but bright nonetheless. Like the sun hitting stained glass. It didn't hurt, but It was definitely obvious that I... was different. 'What is going on?!' I did not understand

She tried to genuinely sound sympathetic. He smiled. "You're wrong baby girl." He placed one hand on her thigh. "I don't have a heart. I ripped my heart out of my chest and buried it when I heard my mum got another husband, settled with him in Florida, gave birth to twins, and adopted two children. The one person I was secretly waiting for didn't care about my existence, so I stopped caring. I don't care whether your friend is broken to pieces or beaten up to the point of blindness."

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I could feel it in my throat. A message popped up... ******

No swelling, my skin is soft, clean. Realization churns in my gut. Yesterday, I had one foot firmly planted in my grave. I knew I was dying. No way should I feel good. I sit up too fast and the rush of it knocks the breath from my lungs. My heart starts racing, adrenaline kicking up late to a party. I throw the blanket back and scan my legs, my arms, my hands. Every inch of me should be black and blue and bandaged, but there's nothing. Not a scab, just perfect, unbroken skin. Like none of it happened.