The room moved.
No, it was me who moved.
The scene might even be comical if I were watching instead of a participant.
My brain put the pieces together, but again, I was separate—a voyeur.
The woman in the cape pulled me by my feet.
This wasn’t real.
It was a nightmare.
I continued moving. Across the bathroom tile, the bedroom carpet, the hardwood of the hallway…the marble hallway. I wanted to reach out to the passing doorjamb, yet I couldn’t move. The different floor coverings tingled my shoulders and arms. The pain from the sharp object was almost gone. Each time I blinked I was somewhere new. Everything was upside down.
Am I dying?
Lifting me by my shoulders, she pulled me over stairs. Her words and musings no longer made sense, such as a garbled radio station out of tune. Static filled my ears and thoughts as she continued pulling me, stair after stair. I watched helplessly as my legs thumped the stairs. I lost one shoe and then the other. The thigh-high stockings rolled around my ankles.
I was alone.
The colors were gone.
Darkness.
Tears came to my eyes.
I want to live.
I want to love.
Light came briefly as my shoes were thrown, landing near me.
Darkness.
A closed door.
Did I hear a lock?
Smoke?
I had one final thought before unconsciousness won.
Van.
Van
“Isee you,” Madison said again as the cold air swirled around us.
My breath caught.
Fuck.
What Madison said was the same thing I’d said to her on her wedding day.
I cleared my throat. “You aren’t supposed to see me.”
Not totally déjà vu.