She takes in a deep breath as she hears him laugh, nails digging into her palm as she swallows past a lump in her throat. Anna feels mocked, humiliated. “Is this a dick measuring competition now, Dimitri? Do you want to measure who had it worse? Do you want to compare our sob stories? You’ve known me for a long time, but you only know half of it.” He doesn’t know (she doesn’t think he does) of the time they forced her to rip her own nail out, of the time they locked her for days with no food. He doesn’t know of the time they almost drowned her to death. He doesn’t know of her FATHER. He doesn’t know of her brother. He doesn’t know how much his words affected her, how much they tortured her until they realized she knew nothing. He doesn’t know of the programming. He doesn’t know of the blood that they took from her. He doesn’t know of the damage they did to her. 

              Her eyes darken, and her skin crawls inside of her. How dare he. She takes in a deep breath, tightening her jaw. She looks around for but a few seconds, scanning the room for the endless possibilities. A part of her wants him dead. How dare he. Anna’s breathing start to grow, heart beating faster each second. Her nostrils flare and—not a coward that follows orders like a dog. Everything stops for a second. Suddenly everything is silent, everything is in slow motion. She picks the first thing that is in a sight - an atrocious green vase - and throws it at him, hearing its sound as it shatters. And then she grins.