It’s living that’s cursed. —Jim Jones, leader of Peoples Temple Fingers curl around mine and I’m vaguely aware of someone standing beside the bed. It must be morning. I barely slept but now I’m reluctant to wake up; my eyes feel crusted over. “Wake up, Little Owl.” The voice isn’t my mothsout...
I can barely breathe. I can’t move. My arms are pinned to my sides. He’s smiling down at me, the same gentle smile he had when I first met him, which directly contradicts the insistent, panicky howl of the Community’s alarm. In his hand is a black-handled knife. Light flashes across the blade, bl...
This time when the guy runs into me, he lifts his mask and it’s Harrison. He points his gun at my chest and it goes off. I have this phantom ache right under my ribs, just below my heart, and also a very real, very large lump on the back of my head. What is going on? I feel like I somehow dropped...