Chapter Eight
Christopher
Something tells me I’m not doing a good job of hiding my sour mood from Meg tonight. My efforts to unfurl my brow haven’t been successful all day. Let’s just hope she doesn’t poke and prod, because I don’t even have an explanation for what’s going on in my head. It’s just been one of those days and I can’t shake off the mental darkness that’s shrouding me. I feel so claustrophobic in this room, there’s no air movement. I can’t explain why, but the lack of airflow grates on my nerves and I feel as though I can’t breathe.
Meg’s sitting upright in bed, nestled under the covers, looking as divine and innocent as ever while she channel surfs. I roll out of bed to go make sure the front door is locked and check on her windows. It always bugs me when she locks them al
