It just felt right.
Booda didn’t say anything. Just stood there, arms loose at his sides as he watched and waited for me to continue.
“I sat there too long,” I continued, more to myself now. “I should’ve left.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.” I shook my head, gazing off into space. “Something was off—but I couldn’t put my finger on it.”
“What made it feel off?”
I looked at him. “I don’t know. It just did.”
“Don’t play with me. You know,” he said, sounding a little frustrated. “What was different?”
The noise around me faded, and I was back on that block. Cars passed by, but the sound didn’t match what I was seeing. Everything was a second off. I sat there, my eyes moving from one end of the block to the other as I tried to figure out why my chest felt so tight.
“Shadows,” I said, the word slipping out before I could fully grasp it. “There were shadows where there shouldn’t have been any.”
“Where?” Booda pressed.
“I don’t—” I stopped, frustrated. My head was starting to pound. “Between the buildings. On the left side. I remember thinking somebody was waiting, but I couldn’t see who.”
The migraine creeping in was a dull throb at the base of my skull that I recognized. This was what always happened when I tried too hard to remember. My brain would rebel, would lock down, would punish me for pushing.
“Keep going,” Booda said.
“…The street,” I said finally. “It was dead. I was the only person out there.”
“And?”
I opened my mouth, but my jaw just hung there, useless. Light splintered at the edges of my vision, and a vise clamped down behind my right eyeball, twisting tighter with each heartbeat.
“Damn…” I whispered, lifting my hand to my temple. “Hold on.”
“You good?” Booda asked, his voice laced with concern as he moved closer to me.
“I said hold on,” I snapped, holding out my arm to keep him at a distance. “This shit fucking hur—”
Pain tore through my skull, hot and sudden, like a surge I couldn’t outrun. It spread to my temple and locked my jaw. It radiated outward and wrapped around my temple, seizing every muscle in my body. My vision blurred as a haze crept in, and cold sweat broke across my skin.
For a moment, I was stuck, a victim of the migraine’s assault, and I couldn’t do anything but take it.
When I could finally speak again, I dragged in a breath, forcing my eyes open.
“I was looking out the window,” I said. “Not really paying attention, just… staring off into space. I think we fought right before that. My mind was preoccupied.”
The pressure pulsed again.
“Then—” I stopped, shaking my head. “I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?”
“I wasn’t looking. But I think something cut across my side. Then it disappeared—I think.”
“Then what did you notice?”
I pressed my fingers into my temple, thinking.
