Page 141 of Dream On, Liar

Neither of us moved.

The silence that followed was worse than the noise.

Then the door bell came again.

It was enough to ruin his plans as he pulled back fast, like the decision had been made in a snap of a second.

The knife dropped from my space.

Air rushed back into my lungs so violently it hurt.

He turned, and before I could understand, he was running away.

The front door slammed so hard the walls seemed to shake with it.

And then all I was left with was the silence.

I stayed where I was.

Because I didn’t know how to move anymore.

My legs didn’t feel like mine.

My hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t tell if I was still holding myself up or if the wall was doing it for me.

The room looked wrong.

Tilted.

Too bright in places, too dark in others.

The broken phone lay a few feet away, like something that had once mattered.

My bag was open, spilled, violated.

Everything felt far away.

Like it belonged to someone else.

I tried to reach for the phone.

My fingers didn’t cooperate.

They barely moved.

The edges of my vision blurred, softening, dissolving.

Another knock came.

Fainter now.

Distant.

Like it was happening underwater.

I blinked once.

Then the room slipped sideways.