Marguerite won’t stop crying. I can feel her body shaking next to me. She doesn’t want me to hold her. She keeps pulling away.
John is shouting. His voice is getting mixed in with the others. So many new voices. Who are these people?
Someone said something about a gun. Marguerite keeps mumbling that we are going to die. I never imagined myself dying like this. Not even knowing it’s going to happen. Where is it going to come from?
I always just thought I’d die of old age. Not wake up one day. Eternal silence accompanying my eternal dark.
This is so much worse. Knowing it could happen at any second. But not from where or whom.
My legs are going weak. I try to take steps back, searching with my hands for anything to grip onto. I feel the wall meet my back as I slink down along it.
I feel so cold. Dark and cold. The buzzing in my head is blocking out all other sounds. I have no sense of what is going on around me. Dark and cold and silent.