It was still happening. There was no sign of halting. I had turned off my messages until I got home but as soon as it was on, the messages came in a wave. Words that scalded my blood, whipped my skin, dissolved my strength. I bit my lip hard, turning off the messages again and setting the phone aside before sitting on my bed, staring out the window, my teeth digging until they caused blood to trickle down my chin and dropped onto my hands.
I didn't even notice it. But Kingsley did. He whined loudly, trying to get my attention, trying to get me to stop hurting myself. He didn't understand that I was completely numb and detached at the moment. He didn't know why the little box of technology made me so upset.