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Damn her.
And damn myself for getting involved to begin with. I should have just let her go the first time I met her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It’s all coming back to me
Felicity
2:10 a.m.
“GET HELP,” I screamed. “I’m so sorry! Oh god, I’m so sorry.”
She was lying there, light brown hair soaked in blood.
“What did you do?” her little girl yelled, rushing to her mother. She wrapped her arms around her.
“I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to. I never meant to.” Shaking, I took a step back, slipping off the edge of the street corner and falling on my ass. Everyone one was looking at me, looking at me like I was a monster, and I couldn’t move.
I just sat there, watching the little girl cry. Everyone stood in horror at what I had done.
My friends pointed to me and all of sudden, an officer pulled my hands behind my back and cuffed my wrists, taking me to his car. Someone covered the woman.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” I cried out to them.
“You should be the one dead!” the girl yelled. “You should be the one dead! Give me back my mom! DIE! DIE!”
Another officer held her back.
My hands chained, the doors of the police cruiser shut in my face. But I can’t stop hearing it. Die. I should have been the one to die. Everyone knew it. If there was justice in the world, I would be dead. But there wasn’t.
“Felicity… Felicity, wake up!”
For a second I thought it was Theo. But when I opened my eyes, it was Mark and Cleo staring at me. My heart was pounding in my chest, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I was covered in sweat, causing my hair to stick to my face. My hands were numb and shaking. I felt like I couldn’t control my body. I tried to form words, but nothing came out.
“You are okay,” Mark whispered, wrapping his arms around me.
Cleo looked at me sadly, petting my head. “Your nightmares are back.”
I tried not to speak, but a wave of nausea hit me, and I was up out of my bed, running to the bathroom and on my knees, clasping the toilet bowel, emptying my stomach.
It looked like the vomiting was back as well.
Cleo patted my back. “Maybe this dancing thing is a bad idea. It’s been only a few days and you’re back to your old self.”
“Cleo, not now.” Mark placed a glass of water beside me.
Wiping my mouth, I gargled water and spit it out. Flushing the toilet, I laid back onto the ground. The cold tiles felt amazing against the heat of my skin.
“I bet I don’t look sugar baby beautiful now,” I whispered.
“It’s two in the morning. No one but prostitutes look good at this hour,” Cleo joked, laughing, and I lay there for the longest time. Soon my vision became blurred by my own tears. Curling up in a ball, holding on to myself, I sobbed.
I just want to be okay.
8:04 a.m.
According to my workout regimen, every morning I would need to spend at least an hour and a half exercising before practice at noon. That was added to the change in my food. My breakfast was now oatmeal and raisins, then a bag of fruit after my workouts.
