Chapter 155

Intense-1

The next day, I'm tidying up my room after a shower and before dinner. I grab a sweater I have on my bedside table and in the process, my phone falls on the floor.

It flashes on and the numbers from the corner of the screen stare back at me.

My heart goes into overdrive.

They're small, unassuming, but they define my entire life at this point.

February 14th.

I've been avoiding my phone all day for this exact reason. I didn't want to be reminded. And now I'm here, in the suffocating quiet, trying not to drown in it.

Burning rubber and gasoline.

The crunch of metal folding in on itself.

Flashing lights. Red, white, blue, like a strobe in the middle of the nightmare.

The images and memories bombard me, and I struggle to breathe.

I wrap myself tighter in the blanket I stole off the bed, dragging it with me like a shield as

I step onto the balcony of my room. The cold air bites at my face, but I welcome it.

It's sharp, cold... completely opposite to that day as I watched the first responders check my family for signs of life.

was hot that day, burning

was

dark and without lights coming from a large city, I can see the stars and the

beautiful.

down my cheeks without much fuss. But it's the guilt that gets me. The tight, gnawing weight in my chest that never really leaves, just burrows deeper

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intense 1

face into the blanket, trying to silence the sound that

I'm pathetic.

soft creak of the floorboards that makes me lift my head, wiping at my face quickly, hoping I don't look as

Zaid's voice is

Anyone else I might have faked a

think I don't need

eyes soften when he steps out

knows. It feels like he always knows what

say anything; I

down and scoops me up, blanket and all. He

curled in his lap, his arms solid and warm as they fold around

my face in his chest, letting myself melt into

of

smells like

after a moment, his fingers

my head. He nods and just

say something. I feel his body tense under me. Not in

ask, wiping

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