My stomach twisted. I put my forehead to my knees, the foil crinkled, and I tried to breathe. The pressure. How could it be getting worse and worse by the second? When I closed my eyes, weird bursts of light arrived from nowhere. I thought I heard stones crunching behind me, someone walking around, but I couldn’t lift my head to check. Blackness washed over me.

I rubbed my eyes. I’d fallen asleep. Or passed out. For a minute? For an hour? It was still dark, but everything looked a lighter color of gray. I slowly got to my feet. My legs wobbled, my mouth was dry, and each throb in my head made my muscles seize.

I flicked on the flashlight. Shone it up on the cement, and the glow lit up Almost, painted on the wall.

I have to keep moving. I’m almost home.

I pushed through the bushes. There was no path. I stepped. It was harder to lift my legs, and each time I stumbled I grabbed at the trees. My feet seemed so far away. Was this the right direction?

The pain was suddenly overwhelming. Flashes burst inside my eyes. The side of my head was firing shots through my jaw and eyes and down the bones of my neck. My teeth chattered. My rib cage shook.

Another branch cracked. I was not alone. Maybe it was a bear. Or a wolf. Maybe they weren’t all gone. Or even a man hunting around for me. Didn’t they say exactly where I went missing on the news? What if there was a reward?

I spun the light around, through the wet, shiny trees. I tried to yell “Who’s there?” but the words went somewhere else. I grabbed my head. Pain gnawed through me. One strike after the other. So sharp and violent.

Which way was I facing? My feet dragged over the wet ground. Step after step after step. And then the trees vanished. I was in a yard. My yard? How did I get here? I dropped the flashlight. A thin beam across the grass. I squinted. Another light coming from the house. Behind the sliding doors.

I started crawling across the backyard. I could no longer walk. Something solid was expanding inside my skull. Trying to find its way out. Every bone and joint tingled. Spit pooled under my tongue.

Gloria was in the kitchen. Was that her? A big fluffy bathrobe. It had to be. The pulsing pain hammered out a message inside my head. Your mother. Loves you. She really. Loves you.

I edged forward. My brain was splitting open.

Can you see me?

Mom?

Gray washed over me. Inside the haze, I heard something. A cough carried across the vacant yard. Or a gasp. Maybe it was an “urh.”