imaginary friend pressure

“He—” I croaked, my throat dry and scratchy, a foreign, slightly bitter taste on my tongue. “Help!” My voice was so weak and thready, there was no way anyone would hear me, not through what I was now recognizing as sound-proof padding on the walls. What had happened to me? I couldn't remember. I didn't know where I was, had no idea why I was here.

He then charged towards Thera with mana radiating from the tip of his horn and flowing over him like fire around a meteor. Every footfall shook the ground as though he was made of solid steel, yet his speed was remarkable. Thera reformed one of her whips and swung it to the side, grabbing the ground and then using it to pull her out of Cain’s way. He continued his charge towards the edge of the ring. A magical barrier protected the audience from spells, but the spectators in his path still scrambled to move. They were right to flee, as Cain hit the stands like a runaway semi, smashing through the wall around the ring and bringing down several levels of seats. By some miracle, no one was killed, but that wasn’t to say there were no casualties. Not all of the spectators had managed to escape the destruction.

The thought popped into her mind that she should probably pull away and that sneaking into her dad’s bed and smelling him was already a bit off. But her mind was already beginning to ask some more questions.Did it look like mine?How much hair does he have?What does it look like?What does it feel like to rub my fingers through it?What does it smell like?