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“Yeah, right.”
“It’s true. He scolded me for riding his motorcycle and then kicked me out of the playroom. That’s all.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I swear—”
Lassandra smacks me across the face.
The slap echoes in the empty bathroom.
My head slams to the right, hitting my shoulder. Shock courses through my veins. The sting of her hand ricochets through my entire body, vibrating like a guitar string pulled taunt.
It hurts so much that I can barely breathe.
I lean against the sink, inching my hand up to rest against my stinging cheek. My skin is throbbing intensely and I’m pretty sure it’s going to swell.
Lassandra presses up against me. Her eyes are dark and frigid. “That was a warning. Stay the hell away from Hawk or I won’t be so nice next time.”
The girls leave.
The door slams closed behind them.
I struggle to stand and look at my reflection.
My curls are rumpled. My brown eyes are puffy. A bruise seeps through my cheek, spreading in the shape of Lassandra’s hand.
I hate it here. I’ve been yelled at, threatened, dragged around and smacked.
This is my dream, dammit.
I’m in my own head.
My own subconscious.
And I’m tired of it.
I need out of this place.
This dream.
This nightmare.
I need my life back.
Now.
It’s time to wake up.
I wipe away my tears and stare at my reflection. “Wake up, Shanel.”
My voice echoes back to me.
The surroundings remain intact.
I turn on the sink and pool my hands beneath the stream of warm water. Splashing it on my face, I scream at the frightened woman with the brown skin and crazy hair. “Wake up!”
More water.
