Page 37 of I Will Break You

My eyes dart around in the dark, each jerky movement in time with my panicked breaths, every muscle coiling with tension. My fingers twitch, ready to snatch anything within reach that could serve as a weapon.

There’s a glass of water on the nightstand. I can smash it and use one of the pieces as a shank, but I’m more likely to slice open my own artery.

My gaze lands on a fountain pen with a sharp nib. I could stab the finger-sucking bastard in the eye. When he’s screaming for mercy, I can knock him unconscious with the lampshade.

Yes. That sounds like a plan.

I inch my arm to the side of the mattress, being careful not to make any noise. My fingers wrap around the pen and remove its cap. All I have to do is pretend to sleep again, and he’ll emerge from his hiding spot, ready for another taste.

Then, I hold my breath and wait.

I wait to attack for what feels like half the night, lying poised with that damned pen. My muscles tremble and beads of sweat roll down my brow. What is he doing? Why hasn’t he returned to fondle my digits with his tongue? What if he’s moved onto my underwear? What if he’s slithered away?

A mad dog of anxiety races through my mind with questions and thoughts and speculations. It snarls and snaps and foams at the mouth, chasing its tail until my consciousness is consumed by froth.

He wants me to make the first move. Or maybe he’s fallen asleep. My patience thins to its last fraying threads. I can’t stay in this position, anticipating an attack that will never materialize.

My adrenaline simmers to the brink of boiling over. I spring from the mattress, flip on the lamp, and check under the bed.

It’s empty.

I pace around the room, ripping open every closet and searching every corner with frantic urgency. I can’t stop, even though each creak of the floorboard feels like another blow to mysplintering sanity. I even check the bathroom, but there’s nothing. No sign of an intruder.

My heart continues to race. My mind spins with more of those incessant questions. Was it all in my head? If that was a tactile hallucination, how does that explain the scent of spearmint? An olfactory delusion, maybe?

I walk to the window and scan the garden for any signs of the Grim Reaper. There’s no sight of him lurking among the trees.

My phone buzzes, making me flinch. I check for a message, finding none. The time is 2:43—less than five hours before my appointment with Dr. Saint. Maybe I should talk to her about my prescription. Maybe I should start taking my meds again, even if they make me lethargic and screw with my memory. Anything to ease this overwhelming confusion.

Returning to my bedside, I down my glass of water to wash away any notion of finger-sucking bastards. I can deal with them in the morning. Yawning, I set down the glass, slide back under the covers, and drift into slumber.

Someone is out to get me, and only part of it is in my head. I need to end the hallucinations so I know the difference between what’s real and what’s imagined.

Hours later, I wake up again in a haze. I’m stretched out across the mattress, with the headrest and pillows on my right side and both legs dangling off the edge. The Grim Reaper from last night stands between my spread legs, his eyes glowing in the dark.

Moonlight shines through the window, illuminating the hood of his cloak. From this angle, he appears nearly seven feet tall.

“Who are you?” I whisper.

“You know my name,” he says, his voice so deep I feel it in the marrow of my bones. He sounds so familiar that it hurts.

“Xero?”

He nods.

I try to rise from the bed, but my arms and torso feel bound by ropes. When I raise my head, all the white fabric of my nightgown is gathered around my upper thighs. With a shiver, I slidemy gaze up the specter’s black expanse, stopping before I reach his eyes.

He’s a faceless being that fills the room with an inky blackness, his presence so dense that it’s almost tangible. Silence stretches out for suffocating moments, bearing down on my lungs, until the words spill from my lips.

“Are you here to kill me?” I blurt.

He shakes his head.

“Are you here for revenge?”

He nods.

I gulp. “What do you want?”