Theclockclickedpastone after midnight.
She was still not here.
She broke the promise.
Sheleftme.
She leftme.
A sound tore out of me as I shot up from the bed. I slammed into the night cabinet, grabbed it with whatever strength still crawled inside me, lifted it, and hurled it at the mirror above the sink. The glass exploded into a storm of tiny, glittering pieces.
My palm beat against my forehead. Hard. Again. Again. And again.
Wet strands of black hair slid over my skin, and the dripping dye streaked down my face like black tears.
“She left me,” I whispered, my voice trembling with anger. “She leftme.“ My hand spread over my chest. I tapped once, twice, then struck until it hurt. “ME!“ I screamed.
The voices in my head swelled and twisted. I grabbed fistfuls of my hair and pulled as I paced across the room, bare feet dragging over the floorboards.
“Me,” I muttered. “Me.” My foot lashed out at the empty air. “My Doll left me.”
I cried out, “How could I trust her?” My palms slammed against the sides of my head. “You will be sorry,” I whispered, breath shaking.
Then I laughed. A sharp, cracked laugh.
“You will be sorry you met me, my sweet little Dolly.” The laugh grew louder, rising from a broken place.
“Sorry.Sorry.Sorry.“ A low chuckle.
“Yes, you.” I tore toward the closet. “You will be sorry.”
A door cracked open below. Mia’s voice drifted up. “She’s still not back?”
“No!” I shouted.
“What if something happened?” she asked. “You have to go check.”
“Maybe,” I breathed under my breath.
Then I snapped, “No!”
I stood at the top of the stairs, staring down at her. My body tilted to one side, off balance, pulled by anger inside me.
“I will find her,” I murmured. My head leaned to the other side. “I will make her sorry she left.”
I stormed down the stairs and shoved past Mia as I reached the door. Every floor I passed felt emptier than the last, like the whole house whispered that she was gone.
My breath came out in raw, animal bursts.
“Dolly.” Her name scraped out of me, rough as gravel. “Dolly.”
At the bottom, I stepped outside. The night air cut cold against my bare skin, but it did not matter. I moved through the yard, past the tents, toward the narrow path that led to her house.
“You never even wanted to stay,” I whispered, my voice shaking with fury. “You never fucking wanted to stay.”
The voices in my skull sharpened, overlapping, snarling her name and screaming mine. My chest still throbbed where I had beaten it. My hair hung over my forehead, wet and heavy, making it hard to see.
I knew these woods like my own pulse. It did not take long before the path opened and her house appeared through thetrees.
