Celeste chewed on her lower lip as she stared out the window, a sense of relief building the further they got away from that spot. “I imagined...or I hallucinated that bugs were trying to crawl out of my skin.” Her hair whipped around her face. She turned to look at James. Her tone was matter-of-fact, like she was reciting from a police report. “There was a man. Half his face was missing, like it had been shot off. Then it felt like I had been shot.”
She closed her eyes. Remembering it felt like diving into murky waters. The deeper she got, the harder it got to breathe. “I could feel my blood. I could feel the pieces of my face crumbling into my hands. I don’t have a word for how much it hurt.” Celeste played with the necklaces, the seashell clacking against metal. “At some point, it stopped but, then this thing started...”
The brunette shuddered. “Sucking the life out of me. So I grabbed my knife, and I stabbed it. James...I didn’t wanna die.”