Fifteen Years Earlier…
I’m not sure what’s happening.
Everything is fuzzy.
I want something…
Mouth is dry.
Water.
“Water,” I say.
Except I don’t actually say it.
I think I’m only thinking it.
My eyes are crusted shut.
Or it feels like they are, like when you wake up with a bad cold that goes into your eye.
“Open,” I say to my eyes.
Open.
Then I see him, through the narrow slits of my eyelids.
My father.Sitting next to me.
And I’m…
I’m lying down.
In a bed.A bed that’s not mine.
And then I remember.
It all comes barreling back like a freight train into my head.
My father.Ted.The gun.
And…
What happened?
Ted?
Me?
My father shot me.
“Hawk?”My father’s voice.
“Dad…” I grind out.
“Yes, son.I’m here.”
“Where am I?”