Abigail
The nightmares had been getting worse.
Two nights ago Annette had shaken me awake at three in the morning, her hands gripping my shoulders. I had woken swinging, gasping, certain that something, someone had their hands around my throat.
My parents' killer. That man whose face I couldn't remember.
It was the same now. The lights in the restaurant went down and the void fucking grabbed me. The floor swayed under my feet and suddenly I was back in that wrecked car fifteen years ago.
Cold metal pressed against my cheek. The smell of petrol was heavy in the air, the rain pouring harder only made the smell thicker.
I couldn't see. My fingers pushed, hitting the window weakly, croaking, calling, but no one heard. No one was coming.
Help me.
I couldn't breathe. My chest flexed painfully as I tried to gulp down air but I somehow felt so full of air, without having any.
"...can you hear me…"
