Fragments

4.7

            4.7

            The glass, full of water and untouched, slips out of my fingers. Life moves in slow motion inside my head, full to the brim with all my thoughts and emotions, ready to spill over. Lane is smiling, devilish, and then my mother is rushing in from the dining room, asking what happened.

            I watch as Lane’s face turns from thrilled to shock to face my mother.

            “I don’t know,” she cries, “Piper just froze. I don’t know what’s wrong!”

            “Piper.” My mother brushes past her, her expression concerned and scared and disappointed all at once. When she stands in front of me, I look down, scared to meet her eyes.

            She doesn’t touch me.

            The floor is covered in shards but I don’t remember ever hearing it crash into a million little razor blades on the tile.

            When I look back up, there’s eyes looking at me, expectant. Somebody had been talking to me, saying something about being pale. I touch my forehead, feeling suddenly warm, and then my legs give out.