Page 24 of Fragmented Illusions

Thump.

Thump.

My blood rushes in my ears, distorting every ounce of noise, and shooting straight to my head. I feel myself sway, losing my balance but not being able to do anything about it. I fall onto the cold tile floor in a heap of skin and bones, trembling uncontrollably.

My body has gone into shock—this I know. Because while yes, I’m terrified down to my very core, I’m aware. I’m reasonable. I know what I saw is probably only my over-active imagination. My fear cementing itself into my everyday life.

But my body, on the other hand, most definitely did not get the memo. At first, when I first saw the flash of white, yes, I did think it was them coming to get me… to play with me…

No, Fallon.

They probably want to kill you.

But what if I’m wrong. What if they trulyarehere?

I shake my head back and forth, as I try to convince myself I’m seeing things. Mother and Father didn’t believe me—and for good reason. And because of their doubt, I’m not even sure of the truth of what I saw.

Yes, you are. You know they are real.

Or are they?

I tremble on the floor, forcing myself to breathe in heavily through my nose and exhaling through my mouth. In. Out. In. Out.

Come back to reality, Fallon. You’ve been through this before, you know what to do.

I chant to myself as I focus on my breathing, shoving every other thought devouring me to the back of my brain.

In. Out.

The coldness of the floor seeps into the skin of my cheek as I lie on my side, staring blankly at the ugly pale yellow wall.

In. Out.

I can feel the tremors wracking my body slowly start to diminish with the more oxygen I get into my lungs.

In. Out.

After what feels like an eternity, my body fully relaxes, and I sink even further into the floor, almost becoming one with it. The frigidity of it works its way through the material of my clothes, cooling my sweaty, overheated skin to a degree. Enough to bring clarity back to me.

“Fallon!” I hear someone yell and I manage to lift my head off of the floor. My eyes travel up a pair of jean covered legs to Natalie’s face. A face etched deeply with concern I can see plain as day.

Her brown eyes are wide, and her mouth is agape as she stares at me, but I can also see the way her brows are knit, and she has her hand outreached to me to help me up. I swallow down the bile threatening to spew out of my mouth as I place my hand in hers. I cringe when my sweaty palm makes contact with hers, and I stare at her as it happens, but she doesn’t react in the slightest. I don’t know whether to be happy or concerned about that, but I’m not exactly in the position to think about it right now.

“What the hell happened?” she asks me as she pulls me to my feet. “Are you okay?”

I stare at her for a moment, my face matching hers, I am sure. I’m terrified out of my fucking mind—but not for any other reason than she saw me. On the floor. Losing myself.

Goddamnit, Fallon.

I told you. You’re losing it.

I cough as I let go of her hand and spin away from her. I start washing my sweat covered hands in the sink for something to do other than solely feeling her eyes burning into me, but I quickly realize trying to distract myself isn’t going to work.

I need to spin this into something reasonable.

Better think fast.

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Yes, I’m okay. I was drying my hands and I felt a wave of dizziness hit me. I fell and I think I might have hit my head on the floor when I did.” I stick my hands under the hand dryer and let the cool air blow across them for a minute before turning back to Nat.