“Well, that escalated quickly…”
She stood frozen, consumed by the sight of blood spattered under the truck. He was dead.
“No kidding,” she muttered back, still in a haze.
He was dead. And she was alive.
She didn’t awake from her haze until the morning after, rising from bed like a zombie from the grave.
She felt like one. Stiff and aching, and not just from the heart.
He was dead. How could she ever live with herself?
“Ooh! She’s awakened from the dead!” her father joked as she trudged from her room. She checked the clock. 11:30. She must’ve slept in.
“Not funny,” she grumbled.