Part 2
My mind is a fury of white noise, a buzzing like bees encircling my brain, stinging at my thoughts and leaving them numb and swollen and useless. I don’t know if it’s the voice anymore or if the sun has anything to do with it, beating down on me through the thinning trees until all I hear is a high-pitched hum, all I see are white spots. I stumble along, hoping I don’t fall because I don’t have the strength to get up again. I feel nauseous, the pain eating into my stomach, making me swoon.
Did I go through everything for this, just to die here in this heat, amid these trees? If I fall, at least I’ll die free. At least there’s that.
When the sun starts to sink in the sky, I trip out of the woods and find myself on a road of sorts, crumbled asphalt buckled into wrinkles like cord
