In the middle of the night, my memories awakened me. Frantically I looked around the room, unsure of where I was. My mind kept telling me something was wrong. Why wasn’t RJ crying? He wasn’t sleeping soundly, often waking up in the wee hours of the morning. Then, I felt the other half of the bed. It was cold. No one was there. Where was Ryan?
The events unfolded like a house of cards tumbling down.
Blood…bullets…bodies…Police…Coroner.
Pain, like nothing I had before, funneled into my heart. The agony coursed through me, finally stopping at my skull. As my mind struggled to make sense of everything, my face began aching. It was dull at first but quickly turned into intense stabs. Gasping for air, I tried to rise but got caught up in the sheets. Flailing and screaming, I beat the mattress, wanting desperately to escape my reality.
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