Ezra

Everything settles. Every noise, chatter, they all go quiet save for the cackling of the bon fire. The air is thick with anticipation, and the newbies reek with faux confidence.

Deep down, they’re terrified. But we’re not allowed to be scared, and so we hide that shit up, or better yet, bottle it and toss it somewhere so fucking far away.

Sweat trickles down my spine, my jaw tight as pain shoots up my bad leg, but I hide it. The throb fluctuates between intense and dull, and fuck, ...