Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(2)

I looked down into the murky water, my breath burning in my lungs. The hands were now long, jagged claws, and as I kicked, one claw pierced my ankle, anchoring me under the water. A dark cloud surrounded me as the blood oozed around its nails. I struggled against it, but it only tore deeper into me. A rush of air bubbled around me as I screamed in pain. I was about to inhale my death when something pressed against my face.

It didn't feel like a dream anymore.

I shot up with a gasp, the pillow falling from my face. Disoriented and panting, I searched the room. Sara stood frozen by her bed, her eyes wide and mouth open.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered. "I thought I heard you talking. I thought you were awake."

"I'm awake," I exhaled quickly. With a deep breath, I pushed the panic away. Sara remained stunned even after I'd recovered.

"I shouldn't have thrown the pillow on your head. I'm really sorry," she frowned guiltily.

What are you talking about?" I brushed off her apology. "It was just a dream. I'm fine." After another deep breath to ease the shaking, I pulled back the covers. They clung to the layer of sweat covering my body.

"Good morning, Sara." I said as normally as I could.

"Good morning, Emma," she finally returned, forced out of her guilt-ridden stupor. And just like that, it was over, thankfully. "I'm going to take a shower. We have to hurry. We're leaving in an hour." She grabbed her things and disappeared.

I'd been trying to prepare myself for this day for over a month. It didn't matter. I was still freaked just thinking about it. And now it was here.

I collapsed back on the bed and stared up at the white glowing skylights that lined the ceiling, the morning sun hidden behind the snow.



       
         
       
        

I looked around the room that had no true connection to me―the large flatscreen hanging on the wall, and a vanity in the corner, lined with makeup that had seen way too many makeovers at my expense. There were pictures of laughing friends taped to the mirror, and vibrant art adorned the walls. No reminder of my life before I came here. It was the place where I'd been hiding ―hiding from the judgment, whispers and stares.

Why was I here? I knew the answer. If I had the choice, I'd never leave. It's not like I had anywhere else to go, and the McKinleys wouldn't turn their backs on me. They were the only family I had, and for that I would always be grateful. But that wasn't completely the truth. They weren't the only family I had.

So when the phone rang while Sara was in the shower, I sucked in all the courage I could gather, put the phone to my ear and said, "Hi."

"Oh! You're there," my mother exclaimed, completely taken by surprise. "I'm so glad I was finally able to catch you. How are you?"

"I'm fine," I replied, my heart stammering in my chest. "Um, so you have plans tonight?"

"Just a party with some friends," she replied, sounding just as awkward as I felt. "Listen. I was hoping we could try, you know... I mean, I live pretty much in Weslyn now if you ever decide you'd like to..."

"Yeah, sure," I blurted, before I lost my nerve, "I'll live with you."

"Oh, um, okay," she responded in strained excitement. "Really?"

"Sure," I answered, trying to sound sincere. "I mean, I'm leaving for college soon, so better reconnect now than when I'm across the country, right?"

She was silent, probably digesting that I'd just invited myself to move in. "Uh, yeah, that sounds great. When are you thinking?"

"Since I go back to school on Monday, how about Sunday?"

"Meaning, this Sunday? As in, three days from now?" There was no hiding the panic in her voice. My heart skipped a beat. She wasn't ready to take me back, was she?

"Would that be okay? I mean, I don't need anything, just a bed, or even a couch. But if it's too much... Sorry, I shouldn't have―"

"No …  no, that's perfect," she stumbled. "Um, I have time to get your room ready, so …  sure, Sunday it is. I live on Decatur Street. I'll text you the address."

"Okay. I'll see you Sunday then."

"Yup," my mother replied, the shock still lingering in her tone. "Happy New Year, Emily."

"You too," I returned before hanging up the phone. I stared up at the ceiling. What did I just do?! What was I thinking? 

I grabbed my things and walked past Sara into the bathroom, trying to control the panic rising inside of me. By the time I emerged, I had come to terms with it. It was what I had to do.