*****THIS BOOK IS FINISHED AND AVAILABLE ON AMAZON*****
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3 years ago.
August.
Fear pinned its cold hands against my chest until it pushed through to my heart. It slowed my muscles and hollowed out my bones. I felt too heavy to budge but too light to stay on the ground. My body vibrated with the need to move, to go, to hide but my mind kept me frozen in place.
If I moved, he would hear me.
If I stayed, he would see me.
Oliver had broken out of jail. Oliver, who had held a gun to my face and threatened to shoot me. Oliver, who had held me at knife point and threatened to kill me over a girl. He'd broken out of jail and was in my dorm room and my mind and body were splitting me in two directions, leaving me a helpless mess on my bed in the middle of the night.
Fear was squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until the only thing I could hear was my heart struggling.
Thump-thump-thump, went my heart.
Thump-thump-thump, went his footsteps.
A laugh – A laugh?
My eyes opened.
A sliver of light illuminated the ceiling, coming from the gap in my dorm room curtains that I could never get to close all of the way.
Another laugh. Thump-thump-thump.
I glanced out of the first-story window and saw a group of four hanging out in the courtyard outside. One of them was bouncing a basketball.
A look around my room confirmed the only other person in here besides me was Corey, who was still sound asleep in his bed, snoring lightly. With a groan, I fell back onto my pillow.
It was just a nightmare. The window was shut. Oliver wasn't in the room. I was safe.
Oliver was in jail but had his trial coming up that decided if he was going to get locked up for good or if he was free to roam. I hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a month.
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3 years ago.
August.
Sparky calling...
Panic pressed in on my chest this time, securing my lungs in a firm grasp as I watched Brooke's call go to voicemail. Oliver's voice was stuck in my head.
1 new voicemail.
I deleted the voicemail before she even said 'hi'.
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3 years ago.
September.
I was on the tiny dorm bathroom floor. My lungs didn't want to work anymore. Was I dying? I couldn't think. I couldn't catch my breath. I was dying because I couldn't breathe, because something was on my chest that I couldn't see.
The next day, my therapist talked to me about panic attacks.
_________________________________
3 years ago.
October.
Sparky: 7:31 p.m.
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Stung (Now Published)
Romance***SPARKED IS AVAILABLE ON AMAZON*** This is the sequel to Sparked. Make sure to check that one out before reading this one! After graduating high school, Nate told Brooke to take a year and figure out what she wanted before they became an item. The...
