The Game

It was just an innocent game. Or so I thought. I swept my gaze around the table at the seven other pairs sitting around us. Each pair consisted of one girl and one boy. A pile of game pieces lay on the table in front of us. The girl to my right began. She extracted a piece and placed it on the pile. Safe. It was my turn. I could feel the fifteen pairs of eyes on me as I tried to concentraTe on the arrangement in front of me. The rules of the game played through my head once again. We go around the circle. One member from each pair had to take a piece and rearrange it. You must move the first piece you touch. The contraption must not fall. If it did, the boy from the pair must take a punisHment. It seemed fairly simple. Don’t let it fall, a girl’s voice echoed in my mind. I was sure she meant it as a friendly reminder, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was an edge to her voice... a sharp one. I inhaled, realizing I had been holding my brEath for at least a few minutes, and turned my attention to a single piece. My fingers moved forward, almost in slow motion. A chorus of ooh’s erupted from the crowd as I touched the piece. Luckily, it yielded easily to my grasp. I lowered the piece on top of the pile and sighed with relief as I slumped back into my seat. I was safe. The boY to my left nonchalantly flicked his piece out of the mess, as did the boy to his left. Each one showed off a unique and well-practiceD technique accompanied by the same self-assured smirk. Our turn came back around far too quickly. I looked to my partner. Unlike the male counterparts to all the other girls, he was more than my partner for this game. He was my partner for everything. PeriOd. End of conversation. He gave me a reassuring nod. Just as I had for my previous turn, I selected a piece. My fingers tugged on it, but this time, the piece was stubborN. I twisTed it this way and that, trying to free it from the other parts. The voices of the chorus rose in anticipation. It was deafening. The apparatus wobbled dangerously. There was nothing more I could do. With a final pull, the piece came free. Unfortunately, so did the entire building. It crashed onto the tabletop, much to the excitement of the other pairs. Although not vocalized, everyone Knew what was going to happen. They cheered; there was a menacing glint the boys’ eyes, and the girls leaned back in their chairs, evidently preparing for a good show; but nothing could have prepared us for what came next. Nothing could have described the horror I felt as I saw one of the lead boys pull out a whip from a small cabinet. I couldn't see him, but the look on his face must have mirrored mine, for everyone burst into laughter; the cold, heartless, threatening kiNd. They turned him around. All the boys stood behind him. I could see his jaw tightening as he braced himself for the blOw. Then, suddenly, a cracking sound pierced the air. He stumbled forward. I could feel his silent cringe. He didn’t cry out, which seemed to not satisfy the others. But I knew that his silence was worse than any cry. His shock and pain coursed through me, almost causing me to flinch as well. I dug my nails into the flesh of my palm. I could feel the long welt forming across my back. It was red, angry, and pulsing. He refused to look at me. Before I even got a chance to say anything, another crack tore through my thoughts. This welt was loWer, and slightly less painful. But once again his pain shot up my spine. I grit my teeth as hard as I could and waited for the third and final blow. It came. My muscles contracted so quickly that my nails tore through the skin of my hand, leaving eight bloody half-moons in my palms. But it was over. Finally, he raised his gaze to meet mine. I instantly wished he hadn’t, for the look in his eyes broke my heart into a thousand pieces. This was all my fault.