It was starting to hurt again - everything. From the soles of my feet to the shortest strand of hair, every part of my body was rioting out with pitchforks and torches, chanting 'no more!' to being relentless and unjustifiably abused by their tyrannical abuser.
Then there I was, the shambling, wobbling dictator, slowly succumbing to their mounting aggression. I sunk down to the ground, resting my pounding head against one of the stable gates - and from there I just tried to focus on not passing out.
"By the way," I spoke, more to distract myself than anything. "That barrier of yours…"
"So you saw it then," Mom interjected, so quick to chime in. "I was wondering if you had."
"Do all barriers normally look like that?" I asked, blinking, and recalling that thousand-eyed monstrosity staring back at me. "Or just the ones made by you in particular?"