The sheets chill my naked skin as my eyes adjust to the dark. The bed is empty but I stare at the lone pillow, wondering how long it may remain that way.

My gaze drops to where the pillowcase meets the sheet and I know the notebook is hidden beneath it. I can feel its secrets, its confessions… the vivid dreams I’ve scribbled away in the darkest of the nights.

Turning onto my back, I let out a heavy sigh and close my tired reddened eyes. The relief is immense.

But then I see him again.

I see it all play out and my throat tightens.

If I had never kissed him… none of this would have ever happened.

It was a kiss that changed everything over a decade ago.

A single moment where we thought we could escape. The sirens wail in my memory, the flashing lights force my heart to race as if it’s all happening now. As if I’d just pulled the fire alarm. As if we’re racing down the hall in the middle of the night, praying for the Devil to stay soundly asleep in the heat of chaos.

Tears leak from the corner of my eyes.

“Run away with me,” he whispered and it’s like I can feel his warm breath kissing my neck like it did that night.

I stared into his desperate eyes, full of pain from what we endured, and I could only beg him, “Kiss me first.”

The water sprayed down around us, as he stared back at me, his chest rising and falling. We’d already made our choice. What was one more going to change?

“I don’t even know your name,” he murmured as others ran in a blur behind him.

“I know you though. I see you.” I told him and I’ve never felt so honest in my life.

That’s when the screams started.

Breaking up the moment… and yet.

A creak from the hall floorboards pulls me back from the memory. Grounding myself in this moment where it is all in the past. This is only trauma brought back by the recent events.

“It’s gone. It’s over,” I whisper and I don’t know who I’m trying to convince.

A second creak, louder and closer sends a wave of goosebumps down my body, chilling me to the bone. My heart seems to pound louder and harder with a spark of renewed fear. I call out, my voice hoarse, “Who’s there?”

DEAN

He walks the same. That heavy footed boot hitting the ground sends a chill down my spine. My back tenses against the brick wall as I force my eyes to stay open and watch him walk from his car to grab a pack of cigarettes. The gravel beneath his feet does nothing to remove the memory.