I blink. Once, twice, three times. When he doesn’t disappear, I slam my eyes shut.
He’s not real. He’s not real. He’s not real. He’s not real.
My heart must have started again because it’s pounding blood through my ears.
He’s not really here.
Now I’m having visions?
Why am I having visions?
I’m having a psychotic breakdown.
Yes, that’s why. That’s why I’m seeing my dead boyfriend leaning against my car.
What if I can’t open my eyes?
What if I can’t get home?
Why didn’t I tell anyone I was coming here?
My frozen body jerks at the sound of his voice. It’s like he's standing directly in front of me now. I smash my eyes together tighter and cringe.
“Emma, please breathe.”
You’re not real!
“Em, you’re scaring me. Please breathe,” he pleads.
I’m scaring you?
“If you pass out I’m not going to be able to help you!” he begs.
I’m pretty sure I’m beyond help now.
“Emma! Damn it! Open your eyes and breathe!”
And then my legs do give out. My body meets the gravel and I am lost.
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