"The edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over."
— Hunter S. Thompson
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It resounded—the gunshot. Dull. Definitive Drowned by the volume of the television.
Everything stopped. Including the world.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. For a second, I thought I was dead. But the weight on top of me was still there—heavier now. Too heavy.
Slowly, I peeled my eyes open, barely able to move. The man's body was slumped against mine, his hands still twisted in my torn dress. I couldn't feel his grip tightening anymore—just something warm, thick, gushing all over my skin.
Blood.
His blood.
The weight shifted, rolling off me like a dead animal, and I gasped, sucking in air. Vision bl
