BREELYNN’S POV
White-hot pain rips through me. It’s the same. His stench, his breath, his hands on me, the taste of his blood in my mouth, then the pain of my body being torn in half.
My eyes fly open; this time, when I wake up, there is no actual pain, no short-term memory loss, and no mistaking that my world will never be the same again. I instantly sit up, pulling my legs to my chest and resting my feet on the recliner. As par for the course today, I have no idea where I am when I wake up, but this time is different. This time I have the memory of Mitch crawling in my brain, which adds a level of fear that elevates me from frightened to petrified. Trying not to tremble, I have to keep my wits about me. I need to break this cycle of losing consciousness and waking up in strange places.
