I'm floating, riding a blood-deprived hallucination off my bed and out the window and down the street, past manicured lawns and houses like prisons -- big and entrapping, sheltering people that would much rather be elsewhere, the only difference being that the houses are much better looking than any prison I've ever seen.
There it is -- or is it -- a feeling of disappointment.
"You burned them." I don't bother looking over -- I can tell she's in the doorway. Her voice is sympathetic. She walks over and sits on the edge of the bed.
I'm ashamed.
She falls back on the bed. Her legs are hanging off the edge. "I need to know that you're okay, Levi."
I take a deep breath.
"Are you okay?"
I exhale.
She turns her torso toward me, placing a clenched hand in the center of my bare chest.
of course he has the right to be depressed, what with an abusive boyfriend and no penis?