19
I fall in and out of sleep. Dreams of life when I was free. A party in the woods with friends from school. A whole bunch of us. One of the guys bringing a keg of beer. The taste of a banana milkshake in Kath's Diner. Sitting with Mom and Pop. The pale-yellow shake turns dark-red. I spit blood all over the table. The killer grabs me around the mouth. I wake with a start. I'm curled like an unborn baby on the mattress, facing the nearest wall. The light still on in the room.
I'm soaked in sweat, yet the room is cold. My breath forms tiny clouds of fog in the air. I feel a weight behind me. A presence. The smell of bad breath and stale beer. A tickling on the back of my neck, my hair tucked away beneath me. The sound of swallowing. Of heavy breathing. I blink the stickiness out of my eye
