Elena
Elena woke up to bacon. Not the faint smell of breakfast cooking somewhere downstairs. The actual scent of pork fat hitting a hot pan, salt crystalizing on meat, smoke curling up from the stove. She could smell it like someone was holding the pan directly under her nose.
Her eyes snapped open. Her head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it. She pressed her palms against her temples and tried to breathe through the pain but that made it worse because she could smell everything. The detergent Mrs. Parker used on the sheets. The wood polish on the furniture. Her own sweat soaked into her pillow.
She sat up too fast and her stomach lurched.The nightstand came into focus and her eyes drifted to the pill bottle which sat there where it always did, two white tablets already laid out
