 Kaplinski Rival Sorting Hat Machine
"Pleased with yourself now, are you?" he asked, tearing the handle from the door and lunging it at the mirror in total anger. "Why, yes I am, as it happens..." spoke back the voice in his head. Raising his hands to his head, he wished he could just tear the hissing from his mind.
But knowing fully well he couldn't, he set about picking up the scattered shards of broken glass. They cut into his finger tips and palms as he collected them, but he felt so numb that the pain didn't register in his mind. Instead, he was silently fuming at how he was being twisted to the point where he was beginning to forget who he was and what he was really like. |