Through the Zombie Glass

He’d decided I wasn’t worth the effort.

I looked around the room that wasn’t mine. It was only a loaner. The only things I owned were the clothes in the dresser and closet. I stumbled to the dresser without knowing why—until I felt my fingers curl around the edge and my arms push forward, sending the piece of furniture crashing into the floor.

I grabbed a drawer and tossed it, then another, and another. Socks and underwear went flying in every direction. Seeing them lying on the floor only made me madder. I was just like them. Tossed aside. In a place I didn’t belong.

Cole had just changed the entire course of my life, and I’d been helpless to stop him. Just like I’d been helpless to stop the car crash.

How many other changes would I be forced to endure?

Everything changed. The world. The seasons. Time. People. Nothing and no one ever stayed the same. Accepting another change should be easy. After all, even I would change. One day, I would forget about Cole and the feelings I had for him. I would move on.

And so would he.

He would date another girl.

My gaze drifted to the picture I kept on my nightstand. Kat had snapped it when I’d been too distracted to know anyone else was around. In it, Cole stood behind me, his arms wrapped around me. His chin rested on top of my head, and he appeared utterly content. I was smiling with the dreamy confidence of a girl rushing headlong into love.

Love.

I refused to love him.

I picked up the photo and launched it across the room, my new heart racing with dangerous speed, my lungs burning, no longer able to pull in enough oxygen—as if something inside me was stealing it. My stomach curled into a ball and hardened into iron—but the iron was hollowed out and desperate to be filled. I was hungry again, so danged hungry...but not for food. For... I wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, I needed it.

Now.

A high-pitched ringing scraped at my ears. Sweat broke out over my brow and my palms and trickled down my back. The room spun around and around, my equilibrium shot, and I flailed for balance...tilting anyway...and felt a sharp sting against my entire right side. I must have fallen to the floor.

Help me, I tried to call, but no words emerged. My heart sped up, faster and faster. My lungs constricted far more tightly, the burn intensifying. My hands and feet mutated into blocks of ice.

I...was dying? I had to be dying.

I crawled to the desk, reached blindly for my phone and knocked down the lamp. Glass shattered on the floor.

Had to text Co—no, Nana. Yes, Nana. She would come. She would take care of me—she loved me. But I couldn’t see the keypad. The room was still spinning.

Hinges squeaked. “Ali? Are you okay? What happened to your room?”

Male voice. I recognized it. Mr. Ankh?

Help, I tried to say, but again, no sound emerged.

Footsteps. Strong arms slid underneath me, lifted me. I floated for a few seconds before the mattress pressed into my back.

“Is it the toxin?” he asked, even as he stuck me in the neck with a needle. Yes, it had to be Mr. Ankh. Like the rest of us, he carried the antidote in his pocket, just in case.

A cool stream raced through my veins, and the hunger simmered.

“Breathe,” he said gently. “In. Out. Yes, just like that. Again. Again.” Hands smoothed over my brow, offering comfort I so desperately needed. “Again.”

At last, my heart...hearts...began to slow. My lungs began to fill. The sweat stopped pouring, and the chill kissed me goodbye.

I blinked open my eyes, and saw Mr. Ankh sitting at the side of my bed. Concern bathed his still-handsome features.

“That wasn’t just about the toxin, was it?” he asked, the concern giving way to sympathy.

I remained silent.

“Has that ever happened before?”

“Wh-what?” Almost dying?

“A panic attack?”

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