Gypsy
“These were on your doorstep.”
I turned with my hair still dripping water from the shower into my eyes at Bobby's voice. He stood in my kitchen doorway, a half quizzical, half knowing expression on his face.
His hands were full of flowers - sunflowers to be exact - one hand full of the stems, the other clutching their decapitated heads.
Petals fell on the floor and with them so did any hope that I was free of the nightmare that had been following me for the last five years. It all came rushing back and with it - bile. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I ran before I upended my breakfast over the floor. Pushing past Bobby with my shoulder, I made it to the bathroom just in time, falling to my knees with such force that I knew it would leave bruises.
I threw up until there was noth
