I woke up choking on my own breath, the dream still clawing at my throat. Dad’s face was dissolved into blood on the floor and Rico’s voice was echoing, “murderer, murderer” from a distance. My throat felt completely dry as I swung my legs over the bed’s edge and placed my feet on the cold floor standing up too fast. I pressed a hand to my belly and swallowed the urge to scream “Water.”
I needed water.
Although I knew everywhere was completely quiet, I was sure that Rico was somewhere downstairs, probably on the couch waiting to hear my faintest movement. I didn’t want to see his face or hear another word about my father but I really needed to get out and get some water before I joined the old man beyond the clouds. My thirst won and I pushed the door a little. I listened for a moment an
