The Marmalade Cure

Prologue

It's pitch black. It's dark. And I can't breathe.

Why am I here?

Where am I?

Panic has gripped me into a chokehold so bad, I know it will kill me.

Then the green dials of my alarm clock reach out to me as a saviour from my bedside table.

I take a moment to reorient myself.

I'm not dead.

Not yet.

But I will be.

I just know. I know it with as much certainty as I know that my alarm clock wasn't placed at this spot before I slept. I know it was tucked under my pillow,

to muffle its shrill sound, just so I could get a few more precious minutes before breathing my last.

Iam Adrian.

Tomorrow I will be dead.