Wayward

by Ashley Girardi

  * * * * *

  I awoke with a gasp. My cheek pressed against the hardwood floor of my bedroom and I panted for breath. I pushed up on my elbows and looked frantically around the room. The sky behind the curtains was dark. I was alone.

  The necklace lay several feet away, its black center winking at me in the low light.

  I could taste Valentine on my tongue, that curious mix of forest and darkness. As if he was in the room with me, close enough to touch.

  Only two weeks left.