“No!” I screamed and threw myself at Frankie, knocking her out of the way as the gun went off, the shot going wild and shattering the glass of the window.
Before Frankie and I could jump up, I was yanked to my feet by the man and he was dragging me out the door.
“Look what you’ve made me do. Now I’m going to have to kill you somewhere else. Someone’s probably already called the cops.”
Kill me?
I dug my feet into the floor, trying to slow him down, but it was no use. He lifted me off my feet and put my body firmly against his as if I were his shield. Then he brought the gun up to my temple and looked at Frankie, who was about to charge like a bull.
“Come any closer and I will kill her now, cops be damned.”
Frankie looked between me and the gun, her eyes filling with tears.
“It’s okay, Frankie. I’ll be fine.”
I could tell by the look on her face she didn’t believe me.
And as the man with the gun dragged me out the door, I didn’t believe me either.
Chapter Forty-Five
“Void - A feeling or state of emptiness, loneliness, or loss.”
Dex
I couldn’t say there was no color here because everything was black and black was the presence of all color. Yet, for a color that should be so full, it was maddeningly empty. It was almost as if there were too many colors and they all drowned one another out until there was nothing… nothing but darkness.
I felt as if I were Alice in Wonderland and I’d fallen down a rabbit hole, falling still. There was no bottom to this place. There was no beginning either. I was just falling endlessly.
I didn’t know which way was up or which way was down. There probably was no direction here, because I wasn’t going anywhere. I knew I wasn’t alone, but I saw no one, yet I heard them. Tortured wails, distorted moans came out of the darkness and pummeled me. It sent me spiraling, spinning in all directions. I felt as if I were being pulled apart, but still I stayed together.
There was no end to the constant noise. I tried to call out to them to stop, but I had no voice. I had no mouth. No one would see me, no one would hear me, but I would be here.
Forever floating.
I tried to call upon a memory, a thought to keep me sane. Something to hold on to. Something to envision.
But they were all out of reach. I had no memories. I had no thoughts. All I had were the screams, the echoes of anguish, and the constant feeling of nothing.
I began to envy those cries in the dark. Because at least they had something. They had a way to show their pain. They, too, knew something had been taken away from them. They mourned for the things they couldn’t remember. They mourned for the emptiness that encompassed us.
I didn’t even have that.
All I had was the taunting, fleeting knowledge that I’d lost everything and gained nothing.
I did have a second to wonder when it would end.
But then I realized it would not.
* * *
I woke with a shuddering breath, the kind that pulls you up off of what you’re lying on. And for me, that would be the kitchen floor. I steadied myself, bracing my palms on the cold tile and took another deep breath.
Feelings and sensations rushed over me. It was almost overwhelming. I sat there for I don’t know how long trying to make sense of them all. Trying to sort out everything.
When I tried to think about what happened, all I got was this empty blackness that seemed to open up inside my chest and try to pull me in. I jumped up onto my feet, trying to get away from whatever it was that wanted to claim me.
“Ah, you’re back,” called a voice from the living room.
