Zella
The floor was cold as ice under my knees. There was a hand around my neck, and I fought desperately to get it off to get him off.
No one is coming, cry all you want.
My nails clawed at my throat. It burned. Oh god, everything burned. Why was it so dark? Why was I back in the dark again, under that hand, that smell, that voice.
“Mrs. King?”
I jerked when someone grabbed my arm.
“Don’t touch me!” I screamed, scrambling backward until my spine hit the wall. Oh no. Oh no, I was trapped again.
“Mrs King, we need to get you out-”
“Liar! Liar, don't touch me. I'll kill you if you touch me ever again!” I cried. My chest rose and fell, my eyes darted everywhere, but it was so hard to see. The hand choking me around my throat was back and again, and I coughed and wheezed, squeaking
