//CLARA//
"Gary, look at me."
I threw my entire weight forward, pinning his wrists against the mattress.
"Look at my face. You're safe. You're out of that place."
His single visible eye darted around the ceiling, wild and bloodshot. His chest heaved in violent jerks, each breath a ragged, wet scrape that made my stomach clench. He was fighting invisible ghosts.
"No," he choked out in a panicked rasp. "Get them off me! I don't know anything. Please spare me. It's dark… God, it's so dark."
"Gary! Listen to my voice. It's me. The one who steals your fries and calls you an idiot. Remember? Look at me, you bastard."
The blunt words hit him like ice water. His thrashing slowed, the frantic twitching of his legs going still. His swollen eye flickered, trying to lock onto my features.
"Cl… Clara?"
"Yes. It's Clara. I'm right here."
I released his left wrist, cupping the side of his burning, sweat-slicked face to force his gaze into mine.
