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It just felt right.

Booda didn’t say anything. Just stood there, arms loose at his sides as he watched and waited for me to continue.

“I sat there too long,” I continued, more to myself now. “I should’ve left.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.” I shook my head, gazing off into space. “Something was off—but I couldn’t put my finger on it.”

“What made it feel off?”

I looked at him. “I don’t know. It just did.”

“Don’t play with me. You know,” he said, sounding a little frustrated. “What was different?”

The noise around me faded, and I was back on that block. Cars passed by, but the sound didn’t match what I was seeing. Everything was a second off. I sat there, my eyes moving from one end of the block to the other as I tried to figure out why my chest felt so tight.

“Shadows,” I said, the word slipping out before I could fully grasp it. “There were shadows where there shouldn’t have been any.”

“Where?” Booda pressed.

“I don’t—” I stopped, frustrated. My head was starting to pound. “Between the buildings. On the left side. I remember thinking somebody was waiting, but I couldn’t see who.”

The migraine creeping in was a dull throb at the base of my skull that I recognized. This was what always happened when I tried too hard to remember. My brain would rebel, would lock down, would punish me for pushing.

“Keep going,” Booda said.

“…The street,” I said finally. “It was dead. I was the only person out there.”

“And?”

I opened my mouth, but my jaw just hung there, useless. Light splintered at the edges of my vision, and a vise clamped down behind my right eyeball, twisting tighter with each heartbeat.

“Damn…” I whispered, lifting my hand to my temple. “Hold on.”

“You good?” Booda asked, his voice laced with concern as he moved closer to me.

“I said hold on,” I snapped, holding out my arm to keep him at a distance. “This shit fucking hur—”

Pain tore through my skull, hot and sudden, like a surge I couldn’t outrun. It spread to my temple and locked my jaw. It radiated outward and wrapped around my temple, seizing every muscle in my body. My vision blurred as a haze crept in, and cold sweat broke across my skin.

For a moment, I was stuck, a victim of the migraine’s assault, and I couldn’t do anything but take it.

When I could finally speak again, I dragged in a breath, forcing my eyes open.

“I was looking out the window,” I said. “Not really paying attention, just… staring off into space. I think we fought right before that. My mind was preoccupied.”

The pressure pulsed again.

“Then—” I stopped, shaking my head. “I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

“I wasn’t looking. But I think something cut across my side. Then it disappeared—I think.”

“Then what did you notice?”

I pressed my fingers into my temple, thinking.