KIERAN BLACKWOOD
I wake up to a soft touch on my face, warm and familiar, but my senses are blurred.
My heart is still racing, trapped in the fog of the nightmare that felt so real.
In a reflex, I scream and grab the wrist of whoever touched me, turning my body forcefully to immobilize the person.
When I finally open my eyes, I’m leaning over Scarlett, pinning her against the bed, my fingers gripping her wrist too tightly.
She looks at me with wide eyes, surprised and scared. My muscles are tense, and my body is covered in sweat. The terror of reliving Maya’s death consumes me.
I blink a few times, trying to clear my mind.
Sweat drips down my face as I force myself to release her wrist. She doesn’t move, still lying there, watching me cautiously, her eyes fixed on every move I make.
