Chapter Seventeen
I want to scream. Shout. Scratch at my skin. I'm not sure it's painful, but there's something...itchy about it.
Faces pass my thoughts too. Ones I haven't thought about in years. They bring the guilt with them.
I'm sorry, I think at them as they pass. But none of them say anything back. I shouldn't have asked Bryce to change me. I should have passed on from the world. I've brought so much pain and suffering to people, and all to save my own skin. I can say all I want to about being forced into it, but I made the decision. I drove knives into throats.
Worse, I let Ravi have his way.
Thinking his name triggers something, and my thoughts begin to blur.
Oh no. A vision? Is that possible while I'm half-dying? I'm not so sure. I can have them while sleeping, so I suppose
