Never Force Her To Speak
Language: en
I was born with a jinxed tongue. Whatever dark thing spilled from my lips always came to pass. When I was six, the human trafficker who snatched me snapped my left wrist in a fit of rage. I locked my eyes onto his and hissed through grit teeth: "You break my bone, I take your head." Before the echo of my voice faded, the wind ripped a heavy steel signboard from the rooftop overhead. Its rusted, razor-sharp edge sheared clean through his throat. His head rolled into the gutter before his body even hit the pavement. When I was ten, the old caretaker at the state orphanage stole the meager…