My Personal Hell is You

"It's all your stupid fault!"

"Mine?"

"Yeah! Yours, commie! Did I punch you so hard you lost your hearing?"

"Ha. Not the case. You caused annoying problem, so Mikhail dealt with annoying problem."

"And I'm gonna cause another annoying problem for ya by giving ya another black eye! How do you like that?"

"Hardly strings. Would you like other nostril bloodied?"

"Th-that's-! But that's only 'cause you got a lucky shot in when I wasn't looking!"

"Hit is a hit. Poor shielding on your part."

"Oooh, I'm gonna wipe that smarmy grin right off your face! Do you hear me? If this chick backed off, then I'd do it! Better start writin' that will while you still can!"

"How? Am being held up like you, fool."

Charlotte Labahn was not having a good time as the boys fired off insults. She kept two fingers to both temples, her telekinetic hands holding them in the air. The boy to her left with his repugnant teeth and massive mop of fiery hair flailed wildly in her grip, his body littered with near black bruises. Blood dribbled down his nose and over his large overbite to the floorboards below. His jersey was ripped at the collar, which would have matched the tears near the hem, if not for the fact that the other boy tightly held on to the tiny patch of fabric he ripped off. Looking at the second boy, Charlotte noticed his left eye was in a squint. His eyelids were uncomfortably swollen, the skin appearing violet rather than golden brown. Fingernails had clawed his face and neck, leaving behind uneven light red lines to match the welts near his jaw.

She sighed from her spot in the rickety wooden chair. When her grandmother had accepted the position to teach at Whispering Rock after the counselors abandoned their posts to save the Grand Head, she thought it was going to be an easy gig. Her grandmother had reassured her it was going to be a nice, peaceful summer job teaching the Tender Brains basic telekinesis and levitation.

But Camp Whispering Rock was nothing like she imagined. Much to her shock, the cadets were constantly at each other's throats. It was like some of them viewed tormenting their peers as a game. She had to scramble around camp ending disputes, arguments, and fistfights when the other teachers were too busy on their smoke breaks to care. One of her Tender Brains even mentioned that she would have liked to have a scrunchie with the power to make "bad people" cough up their hearts only to quickly laugh it off with her equally cheerful friend when they colored together.

She sunk in her seat, pursing her lips so tightly her braces scraped them. A dull ache pounded in the back of her head, triggered by the scent of smoke still wafting in the humid air. Her nostrils flared with every breath she took, her eyes shooting back and forth between the quarreling boys, who would have gladly gone back to fighting if she lost control for a split second.

"Can you put me down already?" the ugly boy - Billy? She thought his name was Billy, but a quick scan of his mind confirmed his name was Bobby - demanded, kicking at the tree branch poking through slabs of wood in the quaint treehouse.

The other boy - she knew his name was Mikhail on account of him referring to himself as such - sighed. "Cannot believe you did this. Cannot believe this."

"You did it! You're the dumb one who can't even speak right!"

Mikhail's lip curled. "Please, grammar escapes you."

"Oh, I ain't likin' what you're sayin'-!"

"Shut up! Can you two shut up for five friggin' minutes!" Charlotte bellowed, shooting up from her seat and letting it clatter behind her. She squared her shoulders, her jacket feeling too tight around her neck and arms. She glared at them, neither of them looking impressed with the sixteen-year-old intern. Considering she was barely taller than the tip of Bobby's hair, she knew she didn't appear physically intimidating to the boys who had just done something so shocking that she would only quietly admit to her grandmother that they terrified her.

"Lemme go already or I'm gonna rip your braces off one by one and imprint 'em to your face and make 'em your new freckles!" Bobby raged, a sheen of sweat appearing on his brow.

"Bad insult," Mikhail dryly remarked, looking at the drawings pinned around them.

"Cram it!" he growled back, grinding down so hard on what few teeth he had left that Charlotte thought they would pop out.

"Enough!" she commanded, her black hair held up in a bun becoming undone with a sharp shake of her head. Scoffing, she let her hair tie fall on the table next to her. She kicked her seat upright and leaned it against the table where a radio remained. As her hair fell over her eyes, she asked, "Do you two understand how much property damage you caused? You guys are so lucky the Psychonauts can't use child labor anymore or I'd make you clean up that mess!"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "It's just the lodge. Ain't like it's a big deal."

Mikhail huffed out a sigh. "Wall was, eh, in the way." He narrowed his eyes at Bobby. "Should have let stove do job to end fight."

Bobby's face burned redder than his hair. "I'm going to kill you as soon as I can! And you just admitted that it's your fault!" He flashed a victorious grin at Charlotte. "See? I didn't do nothin' wrong. Lemme go!"

Mikhail clicked his tongue. "You ducked."

"Because you threw a freakin' stove at my head, and it smashed through the stupid wall! Any guy with a brain cell would duck if that's flyin' at his head!"

He smirked. "Oh? Cannot stop clunky stove telekinetically? Proves poor shielding abilities."

"You-!"

The sunlight bleeding in through the opening of the treehouse was suddenly blocked off by a figure materializing out of thin air. She caught the boys off guard, their argument coming to a swift end. They knew she used teleportation to appear, but the deep smile on her face causing her wrinkles to bunch up unnaturally by her eyes unnerved them.

Because with what they did, no one should have been grinning at them. Not even Milla would have been smiling if she knew they destroyed part of the lodge in their fight. But this woman in a sleek, dark red, floral print tuxedo who tightly gripped her forearm crutches beamed at them as if they had done something right, and that made them exchange a wary glance as she hobbled towards Charlotte, who heaved the biggest sigh of relief they had ever heard.

"Thank God you're here, Granna Banana. I don't think I could've taken another minute of them bickering," she said, the elderly woman uttering a quiet hum in return.

"Well, all they've done since we've arrived is fight like those feisty squirrels we saw outside of our room!" Agent Amalia Labahn cackled and threw her head back. She settled down in the chair, making herself comfortable and unclipping her crutches. Handing them to Charlotte, she smoothed back her curls of pepper gray hair behind her ears. She raised two fingers and cut Charlotte's telekinetic hold over the boys, but before they could drop, she tucked her fingers to her palm and snatched them up by their shoulders, snickering when she realized they resembled clothing on a rack.

"So, you know what they've done, right?" Charlotte asked, placing the crutches on to the cushioned seating behind her.

"Oh, yes, yes! The screams and explosions woke me up from my mid-day nap, after all," she replied, waving her hand dismissively. She reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a pair of deep blue spectacles. Slipping them on the bumpy bridge of her nose, she chuckled. "I'd say it was something of a decent fight, but I've heard better from kids younger than them. I mean, just one stove?" She smirked at Mikhail. "When I was your age, I would've thrown that and three of those tables in the lodge at the same time to get all the angles! Maybe four!" She hooted and slapped her knee, her criticism only making Mikhail furrow his brows and glance at the ground.

"Good advice," he mumbled, Bobby rolling his eyes.

"Of course you'd say that, suck-up," he snapped, discolored spittle landing underneath Mikhail's shoes.

"And you!" Amalia pointed a bony finger at Bobby's face. "I heard you set fire to the totem poles, but you individually threw them at him! Like I said to your friend, you should've thrown them at the same time." She cupped her chin. "Oh, wait, you became an Aura Wrangler last week, right? Maybe you can't yet?"

Bobby bristled, the hairs on his neck rising. A sputtering sound slipped past the spaces of his teeth. His fingers and toes curled reflexively as he barked, "Shut up! And he ain't my friend! What are you, batty and stupid?"

"Hey! Show her some respect! She's one of the oldest Psychonauts still taking on missions!" Charlotte shouted, infuriated on her grandmother's behalf.

"Oh, I'll show her some respect! I'll show her all my respect when she drops me, and I shove my foot up her ass!" Bobby sneered back, Mikhail sighing.

Amalia tittered and slapped her knee again, her reaction only strengthening Bobby's anger. She felt the air spark around her and hummed. If he was trying to firestart her, then he had years to go before he could light a candle next to her. Resting her elbow on the table, she tapped her cheek and tilted her head, appearing inquisitive when she was only amused by their antics.

"You two," she said, drumming her fingers on her thigh, "are very young and very dumb."

Mikhail frowned as Bobby scoffed. Being insulted to his face was something he never took lightly. Even if she was a high-ranking official in the Psychonauts, his pride would not let the insult pass.

But before Mikhail could take a breath, Amalia continued. "In fact, I'd say that you two are rather annoying! Starting fights for no reason-"

"Well, he-!" Mikhail bit his tongue when his cheek was telekinetically pinched. His skin twisted up and down, throbbing instantly. His irritation stewed when Bobby jeered at him, his desire to Deadly Nelson him increasing by the second.

"-and causing property damage and frightening your fellow PSI cadets out of their wits!" Amalia tapped her other cheek, and she pinched Bobby's nose, cutting off his obnoxious laughter. Bobby squeaked in pain, and he feebly kicked out, barely tapping her knobby knees. She clicked her tongue and looked over at Charlotte. "Well, these rowdy rabble-rousers are probably the worst out of this batch of PSI cadets. At least the other children don't try to attack each other as often as these ones do."

"Well, that blonde girl, Ella or something, did pull that other girl's hair. You know, the girl with those weird hair accessories. Katty, I think? Something about her talking smack about Ella's many ex-boyfriends?" Charlotte shrugged. "These kids are something else. Not even my summer camp was this obsessed with killing each other."

Chortling, Amalia nodded and leered over the rim of her glasses. Bobby and Mikhail resumed their glaring match, and she knew they were blaming each other for what happened. If she was honest, she didn't care about who started the brawl. Any reason they came up with would have been inane or childish, suitable for them but bothersome for her.

"Although Agent Nassar was able to put out the fire, there's still the giant hole left behind by your scuffle," Amalia said, lacing her fingers together and exposing the thick blue veins pressing against her weathered lime green palms, "which means you two need a suitable punishment to fit your transgression."

"Yeah, yeah, gonna make us clean it up? Thought you said child labor was outta the question," Bobby sneered only to grimace when she tightened her pinch.

She tutted. "Oh, no, no, no, that won't teach you boys anything. Besides, I have other counselors working on the damage as we speak."

"Then what the hell are you gonna do? Keep us up here all day suspended like this?" he growled, but he quickly turned his venom towards Mikhail. "This is your damn fault, you know that? You threw the first punch and look what happened."

"Because you-" Mikhail swung his legs out the way when Bobby aimed a kick at them. "-attacked tiny boss. Bullying is forbidden, remember?"

"Who died and made you king of the camp? I sure didn't! 'Cause I'm still here, and I'm still the strongman!" Bobby jabbed his heel at Mikhail's knee, grinning when it struck and made him flinch.

Mikhail's nostrils flared like an enraged bear. As Charlotte ordered them to stop, he twisted his head so quickly at Bobby that his hat toppled off behind him. "You started fight, I ended fight. Is your fault," he hissed, his hands curling into fists. Against his better judgment, he punted at Bobby, his heel clipping Bobby's exposed toes and making him yipe. Their legs collided and smashed into each other's hips and shins, hoping to elicit even a hushed whimper to satisfy their feverous agitation. All the while, they rained insults and accusations at one another, neither of them willing to accept fault for their fight while their counselors looked on apathetically.

"Is this a lovers' spat or what?" Amalia whispered to Charlotte behind her hand.

Snatching her hair tie, she quickly scooped her bangs back up and into a high ponytail. "They're gonna keep this up no matter what we do. So, uh, what do we do?"

"Why, we let them fight." Amalia chuckled at the confusion crossing her granddaughter's face. "I've an idea, one which will make them regret ever exchanging blows."

"You struck tiny boss! Mikhail struck back!" he shouted, managing to slam the side of his foot into Bobby's stomach.

"Agh! Why don't you - ow! - just date Maloof if you're so into him!" Bobby guffawed as Mikhail gasped and rammed his heel down into his ankle. "Yeah, you're into - gah! - him, ain't ya? Just say so already!"

"Ngh! No! Is not like -ow! - that! You! You take - ugh! - back now!"

"Oof! Make me, Bulge-akov!"

Amalia laughed over their argument, lifting her index fingers and standing up. "You two like playing footsies, huh? When my husband was alive, we did, too."

Her comment immediately killed their fight. They stared at her with dinner plate wide eyes. Scarlet burned Bobby's already flushed cheeks, and the color drained from Mikhail's face. Mikhail's head spun as he tried fathoming how she could have made such a vile assertion. Bobby squawked that she was crazy and started writhing in her telekinetic grip again, his vows to kill her countering Mikhail's stunned silence.

"Oh, no, that was definitely an extreme game of footsies," Amalia sneered, "and since you two like being so...physical with each other, I've thought of the perfect punishment."

She clasped her index fingers together and squeezed so hard they turned crimson in a second. Her fingernails became a shade of dark pink with how quickly the blood burned in her wrinkled hands. Bobby's left arm and Mikhail's right arm were freed from their telekinetic pulls, but before they could move them, Amalia slammed the cadets together as if she was a little girl playing with dolls, their cheeks and shoulders slamming together.

But then, something clutched around their respective hand. As Amalia dropped them and let them regain their footing, she gripped her hips. Smiling as Mikhail and Bobby stared at their hands, she asked, "So, I think you understand the punishment, right?"

Their hands were locked tightly around each other. To the untrained eye, when they raised their hands, it looked like they were about to engage in an arm wrestling contest. Bobby tried tugging his hand back, but it was like their palms had been super-glued together. Mikhail dug in his heels as panic flushed on Bobby's features, yanking his arm back and nearly knocking Mikhail off his feet.

"Wh-what the hell-? Let go! Let go of me!" Bobby shrieked, waving their arms wildly up and down as if he was trying to get a stubborn piece of sticky gum off his palm.

"Am-! Am trying!" Mikhail shouted, heaving his arm back only to make Bobby crash into him. Flinching as he felt something greasy from Bobby's hair press into his brow, he pushed him only for Bobby to drag him down, knocking them both on to the carpet, their hands still clasped together.

Amalia cackled as they scrambled to their feet. She took her crutches from Charlotte and slipped them on, saying, "You two might be skilled brawlers, but I assure you that you won't escape from the telekinetic lock I've placed on your hands." She tapped her temple. "They didn't call me Madame PSI Lock in the early issues of True Psychic Tales for nothing!"

"That's-that's you? Wait, no! No!" Bobby stamped his foot like a toddler having a tantrum. "You can't keep us like this! You gotta let me go!"

"Any other punishment," Mikhail said, his voice warbling, "any other punishment than…" He looked at their hands and gulped. "...this."

"Oh, no, no, you two earned this. You could say you've had it coming," Amalia said, leaning on her crutches and leering at them over her glasses.

"We'll clean the lodge! We'll pick up the debris! I don't care if it's child labor 'cause we won't tell anyone!" Bobby shrieked, throwing his hands out and making Mikhail wobble when his arm was thrust out, too. He glared at the other boy, snarling, "This is your fault. You got me into this mess, so you better get me outta it."

"You did! Your fault, not mine!" Mikhail shot back, glowering with more fury than before.

"No, you're both wrong," Amalia interjected, her crutches clacking against the ground as she shuffled around them. "You both made the decision to fight. You both made no effort to settle it peacefully." She lowered her voice and smirked, raising more wrinkles on her right cheek. "You both earned this punishment. Now, you both will live with it until I say otherwise."

Mikhail's shoulders hitched, tugging Bobby's hand up. "And-and when is-?"

"Until I say otherwise! Didn't you hear me or are you still in shock?" she snapped, nudging his shoulder with her crutch. She recovered and sighed pleasantly as if she was watching a beautiful sunset. Cocking her head to the entrance, she said, "Charlotte, come along. We have a levitation class to teach down by the docks"

Charlotte nodded and skipped past the horrified duo. She matched her grandmother's smirk and stuck out her tongue, her childish actions going unnoticed by Amalia. She stood by Amalia's side when her grandmother telekinetically picked up Mikhail's hat and set it back on his head, keeping a watchful eye on the boys in case they decided to attack her.

"I did say otherwise...or…" Amalia curled her lips into a smile, one without a shred of mercy. "...until you two learn to compromise or better yet, get along like good boys should."

And with that, she left. Her crutches and heels clicked as she ambled down the wooden steps. Charlotte held her shoulder, carefully guiding Amalia, and they chatted about their upcoming class, abandoning Bobby and Mikhail to their fate.

As silence surrounded them, they looked at their hands. Neither of them made a sound. The wind blew around them, ruffling their wrinkled, torn clothing and making Bobby's clumpy afro sway.

Mikhail took a breath.

And Bobby immediately grabbed Mikhail's chin and tried shoving him off, beginning a very long, very stressful afternoon.