M E M O

She freezes at the low, artificial sound of gravel crunching under heavy wheels echos through the window,

Her heart leaps to her throat,

Her eyes widen,

Her head splits in pain.

A harsh car-slamming sound comes, masked by the crash of the ocean wave.

In a split second, she is seized with an instinct to burrow back to the cover

—to hide.

In a split second, she finally put a finger on the plummeting rock disturbing her chest—

it’s not anger, nor is it sadness—

it’s pure fear.

She hears metal key inserting to metal lock and rotates,

and the hulk of the house—or the room, or wherever she is in—trembles

as the front door is thrown open.

She does not think twice.

She dives under the duvet and swallows down the mad pounding between her rib cages.