WARNING : Imagery of knives, blood, wounds, forest and dark elements.

WORD COUNT - 845 words

She’s clutching her left foot, head bowed as she mutters something under her breath. I can’t make out a word. Her eyes are screwed shut, her free hand buried in her bag, rummaging through it like she’s drowning and reaching for air.

I tilt my head, studying her movements one by one, dissecting them with the kind of patience she doesn’t deserve. A strand of hair slips forward, blocking the only glimpse of her face I had. Annoyed, I lower myself in front of her. My hand brushes the rock she’s propped against—slick moss, cold water, the kind of chill that seeps into bone.