Grandma entered. “Someone’s up early.”
I turned to her, my eyes sagging.
“Mackenzie, you don’t look so good. Are you sick?”
I nodded.
“Well, go lie down.”
Shaking my head, I reached for a mug. I was too freaked out to go to sleep. My hand trembled as I dipped it into the cupboard. My fingers closed around a ceramic handle and I yanked it out as cold swept over me.
“Good morning, Kenzie. Sleep well?” Wesley spoke in my ear.
Startled, I jumped backward, dropping the mug. It shattered on the hardwood floor, breaking into a million tiny pieces.
“Are you alright?” Grandma asked.
My gaze darted around the kitchen. He was there. I could feel him even if I couldn’t see him.
“Kenzie?”
Hugging myself, I locked eyes with Grandma. Her brows furrowed in a look of concern.
“I’m okay,” I lied.
Grandma pressed her wrinkly palm to my forehead. “You feel a little warm. Maybe you’re coming down with something.”
Wesley materialized, grinning over Grandma’s shoulder. The room swayed, the walls bending around me. Dizzy, I reached my hand out to grab the countertop. Before I could touch it everything went black.
“Kenzie. Kenzie.”
My eyelids fluttered open. Grandma’s face came into view, fuzzy around the edges. I tasted blood. My head pounded. When I reached up to touch it, I felt pricks of pain on my arm. Bringing my arm close to my eyes I saw little shards of ceramic embedded in my skin.
“I called Dr. Roberts. He’s on his way.”
“Dr. Roberts?” My throat was raw and scratchy.
“Yes, he’s been my doctor and a family friend for years. He’s going to check on you.” She touched my arm. “Let me help you get these out.”
I lay limp like a rag doll as she pulled out the pieces and rubbed my arm with a warm rag.
“Kenzie, what are these?”
I froze, knowing by her tone what she was referring to. Glancing down I saw her pointing at my scars. An icy wind slapped me in the face and Wesley appeared by my side. Panic gripped me. Grandma’s gaze never wavered from mine and I realized that she must not be able to see him.
“Um…nothing.”
“Were you cutting yourself?”
“Don’t tell her. She’ll just be upset,” Wesley whispered in my ear.
“Of course not. I probably just fell or something. Look how clumsy I am.”
The doorbell rang.
“That must be the doctor.” Grandma stood.
“Get outta here!” Wesley nudged me.
“What?”
“They’re gonna hospitalize you.”
“Why?”
“Hello Dr. Roberts. Thanks for coming so quickly,” Grandma said in the other room.
“Hurry!” Wesley pulled me up. “Once she shows him your arms he’ll know what you’ve been doing. He’ll think you’re crazy. Suicidal.”
She’s right in here,” Grandma said, footsteps nearing the kitchen.
“C’mon.” Wesley yanked my arm so hard I feared it would come out of its socket. I stood, feeling unsteady on wobbly legs, and he pulled me to the side door. He burst through it and we stumbled out into the yard together. “Move! Move!” Pulling me he fled through the back gate and into the front yard. “Get in the car.”
Panting, I said, “I don’t have the keys.”
“Here.” He shoved the keys to Grandma’s car into the palm of my hand. Spots appeared in my vision as blood rushed through my pounding head. As I hopped into the car I noticed red trickling down my arm. “Turn on the car!” His voice was high pitched and manic.
“I don’t feel so good.”
Wesley’s arm came around me and he turned the key in the ignition. The car roared to life. Shoving me out of the way he sat in the driver’s seat and took off. The car careened down the street. Colors blurred past as we sped away. Peering over at the speedometer I saw that we were going eighty.
“Wesley, slow down!” I screamed.
“You don’t want them catching up to us, do you?”
The more scared I got the more lucid I became. What was I doing? “This is crazy,” I said.
“No. What’s crazy
I turned to her, my eyes sagging.
“Mackenzie, you don’t look so good. Are you sick?”
I nodded.
“Well, go lie down.”
Shaking my head, I reached for a mug. I was too freaked out to go to sleep. My hand trembled as I dipped it into the cupboard. My fingers closed around a ceramic handle and I yanked it out as cold swept over me.
“Good morning, Kenzie. Sleep well?” Wesley spoke in my ear.
Startled, I jumped backward, dropping the mug. It shattered on the hardwood floor, breaking into a million tiny pieces.
“Are you alright?” Grandma asked.
My gaze darted around the kitchen. He was there. I could feel him even if I couldn’t see him.
“Kenzie?”
Hugging myself, I locked eyes with Grandma. Her brows furrowed in a look of concern.
“I’m okay,” I lied.
Grandma pressed her wrinkly palm to my forehead. “You feel a little warm. Maybe you’re coming down with something.”
Wesley materialized, grinning over Grandma’s shoulder. The room swayed, the walls bending around me. Dizzy, I reached my hand out to grab the countertop. Before I could touch it everything went black.
“Kenzie. Kenzie.”
My eyelids fluttered open. Grandma’s face came into view, fuzzy around the edges. I tasted blood. My head pounded. When I reached up to touch it, I felt pricks of pain on my arm. Bringing my arm close to my eyes I saw little shards of ceramic embedded in my skin.
“I called Dr. Roberts. He’s on his way.”
“Dr. Roberts?” My throat was raw and scratchy.
“Yes, he’s been my doctor and a family friend for years. He’s going to check on you.” She touched my arm. “Let me help you get these out.”
I lay limp like a rag doll as she pulled out the pieces and rubbed my arm with a warm rag.
“Kenzie, what are these?”
I froze, knowing by her tone what she was referring to. Glancing down I saw her pointing at my scars. An icy wind slapped me in the face and Wesley appeared by my side. Panic gripped me. Grandma’s gaze never wavered from mine and I realized that she must not be able to see him.
“Um…nothing.”
“Were you cutting yourself?”
“Don’t tell her. She’ll just be upset,” Wesley whispered in my ear.
“Of course not. I probably just fell or something. Look how clumsy I am.”
The doorbell rang.
“That must be the doctor.” Grandma stood.
“Get outta here!” Wesley nudged me.
“What?”
“They’re gonna hospitalize you.”
“Why?”
“Hello Dr. Roberts. Thanks for coming so quickly,” Grandma said in the other room.
“Hurry!” Wesley pulled me up. “Once she shows him your arms he’ll know what you’ve been doing. He’ll think you’re crazy. Suicidal.”
She’s right in here,” Grandma said, footsteps nearing the kitchen.
“C’mon.” Wesley yanked my arm so hard I feared it would come out of its socket. I stood, feeling unsteady on wobbly legs, and he pulled me to the side door. He burst through it and we stumbled out into the yard together. “Move! Move!” Pulling me he fled through the back gate and into the front yard. “Get in the car.”
Panting, I said, “I don’t have the keys.”
“Here.” He shoved the keys to Grandma’s car into the palm of my hand. Spots appeared in my vision as blood rushed through my pounding head. As I hopped into the car I noticed red trickling down my arm. “Turn on the car!” His voice was high pitched and manic.
“I don’t feel so good.”
Wesley’s arm came around me and he turned the key in the ignition. The car roared to life. Shoving me out of the way he sat in the driver’s seat and took off. The car careened down the street. Colors blurred past as we sped away. Peering over at the speedometer I saw that we were going eighty.
“Wesley, slow down!” I screamed.
“You don’t want them catching up to us, do you?”
The more scared I got the more lucid I became. What was I doing? “This is crazy,” I said.
“No. What’s crazy
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