Page 8 of Saved by Him

Round and round and round. Bright colors. Shiny colors. I liked the colors. The room was better with the colors. Instead of gray, they were red and green and blue and silver and orange. Swirling like circles and triangles.

I shifted on the floor, and the swirls went with me. That was new too. I liked it. Before, when it had been dark, I’d been bored. It wasn’t dark now, and I wasn’t bored. I was playing tick-tack-toe with the swirls.

Green won first and got cocky. Red didn’t like that and got distracted. I beat red and then played yellow. Yellow cheated by putting a unicorn in the center, and that was when things got crazy. The colors took sides and then everything else started fighting too.

The triangles on my wrists hurt so I rubbed them together until the triangles turned into rectangles, and I threw them away. I pumped my fists in the air and cheered on the buffalos until I fell asleep.

Running. Running. It was dark, and the trees were scary, but they weren’t chasing me. They cheered, yelling bad words and things in other languages that I couldn’t understand. I wanted to tell them to talk to me or stop yelling, but I was having a hard time breathing. My sides hurt. I was out of shape. But I shouldn’t be out of shape. I ran all the time. Lifted weights. Boxed.

But it hurt to breathe. Ribs and stomach hurt too. Why?

It was hard to run, not just to breathe. My feet felt funny. Tingly numb, like I’d sat on them.

Whoever was chasing me needed to stop because I couldn’t run anymore.

I was too tired.

I turned…and screamed…

My eyes popped open, and I stared around the room. The colors were gone, buthewas still there.

Standing against the wall. Those dark eyes boring into me. Watching me. Daring me.

“Get away from me!”

I held out my hands, pointed at him.

“He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. He’s not here. No. Not here. Can’t be here.”

He took a step forward, and I scrambled backward, my head thumping against the wall. It hurt, but I didn’t care because he couldn’t be here.

“No. No. No. You’re not here. You’re not here.”

I shook my head, then dug my hands into my hair. I closed my eyes, pulled my hair. He had to go away. He wasn’t here. Not here. I never had to see him again. Never again.

“Look at me, Rona.” His familiar voice cracked and warbled. “Look at your father. Don’t be a bad girl. Look at me.”

“No, no. I’m not hearing you. You’re not here. Go away.”

“I’m here, and I’m going to finish what I started.”

“No!” The word ripped out of me, and I screamed it again and again until the colors came and wrapped me up.

They were soft and nice. They invited me to play again. Hangman this time. I said yes. I was always good at hangman. I liked words. I always thought of great words that no one ever guessed.

Quixotic.

Lackadaisical.

Ambiance.

Chivalrous.

People were always surprised at that last one, like no one ever thought about chivalry anymore. I supposed it was as dead as everyone said. Dead as I wishedhewas.

But he wasn’t dead.

Green nudged me. It was my turn to pick a word.

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