I smashed my head into the headboard of my bed as I tumbled out of the sheets. The little mechanics controlling me from the inside had lost control, and I shook on the hardwood floor, soaked to the bone from my own sweat. No…no…it can’t be!
I pushed myself off the floor and stumbled around on my feet. My legs felt like jelly in the sun, as I labored to control the hyperventilation. I was being jolted from the inside out by an earthquake no one else felt or could understand. No. No. No! It’s—no! Not! Can’t! No!
I teetered back on my heels near the edge of my bed, and when I looked up, I saw a girl in a red dress with dark hair and fiery red wings standing on the edge of a branch above a firestorm. She screamed at me and fell back.
I hit the bed hard, crushing my wings and smacking my head against the wall again. Gasping for air, I felt ice cubes of tears racing down my face. Some dummy in the nerves department had hit the full-blown panic button. So this is how a fish feels when it’s thrown into the bottom of the boat.
I curled into a trembling ball at the sound of gentle tapping on my door.
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