Don’t Wake Up by Ashleigh Giannoccaro

Author:Ashleigh Giannoccaro [Giannoccaro, Ashleigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-14T04:00:00+00:00

8

KIAN

She woke up. She is up and out of her bed, walking around. She walks right past me, my heart stops and it’s hard to breathe — everything is over. I have lost her, now that she’s found me. How stupid was I? I didn’t check her pills, I didn’t count, she must have forgotten to take it.

Frozen in the kitchen, only hidden by the shadows, my lungs burn trying not to breathe. If I move a muscle she’ll see me. She passes me on the way to the bathroom, and as soon as the door clicks closed I dart to get my shoes off the mat and slip into the spare room. I push the door almost closed, and pray she didn’t see me. My heart thunders in my ears, my palms sweat and my muscles are so tense they may snap. I feel the tendons in my neck pulling tight as her footsteps approach slowly down the hallway.

I can smell her as she stops right outside the door, I can see her, but she can’t see me from this angle. I can see how fast her chest is rising and falling, the way she’s struggling to breathe, the sweat shines on her skin.

She can feel me, but her fear stops her from seeing me. She looks behind her, slowly scanning her surroundings. There are frown lines furrowing her brow, and heavy dark circles under her puffy eyes. She’s afraid — she’s afraid of me. My throat thickens and I can’t swallow the guilt of knowing that. When she goes back to her room, I let out a breath and sink to the floor, the long pile carpet muffles the sound of my collapse.

I wait a long time for her to settle and drift off again, but I know her sleep won’t be deep, I trip on the rug in the living room on my way out. Closing the door and locking it quietly from the outside, I get out of the building as fast as I can. Instead of going across the street, I walk two blocks to where I parked my car and go back home. I should have gone straight home, I should have left her be — I need to stop this. I am going to get caught and ruin everything. I need something to fill the time until lunch on Wednesday, something to distract me from my distraction.

My home is empty, clinical, and un-lived in. I hate it here. There’s nothing personal in this space. The apartment opposite Ivy felt homey, warm, and comfortable. Pacing the length of my dining room I try to stop my hands from shaking, I need a plan. I need something — sleep. I need to sleep and stop this madness. Pulling the bottle of pills from my bedside drawer, I do the one thing I hate doing more than anything. I swallow three, lay down on my side, close my eyes and pray that the memories don’t suffocate me as I drift away quickly.

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