The lights flashed.
My eyes blurred.
Everyone was screaming. Screaming for him to come back. I wasn't going anything for two reasons. One, I didn't k ow what to do and if I did, I couldn't move. Two, I felt so emotionless. I was out of it. Out of normalality. If normal was even real.
My arm burned. Not a bad burn, a good sensational burn that told me I had done my job well. See, the last feeling I had, was longing. Whenever that feeling takes place over others, Which I don't know those other feelings, my arm gets what it wants most.
The cut that it needs.
