ESCAPING REALITY
Mathilda’s POV
Getting home feels like dragging a heavy shadow behind me. Exhaustion settles deep in my bones as if every step back to my apartment consumed a part of my soul. My mind has been racing nonstop on my way home with every corner I enter to every person walking behind me or any sudden movement. I keep glancing over my shoulder so many times I probably looked paranoid, but after what happened last night, paranoia feels like the only reasonable response.
Taking the bus is starting to feel more like a risk than a convenience. The dark corners of the route, the empty stops, the strangers who stand too close, no, I can’t keep doing that. Not with the way things are going. Not with this case eating at every inch of logic I have left.
And honestly, nothing sits rig
