Someone's chasing me through the woods.
I can't tell who or what it is.
But for some reason, I can't seem to catch any speed. No matter how hard I try, my legs won't go as fast as I want them to take me. I'm too scared to look back.
So I keep running.
I feel a hand grab my shoulder. Shit. My heart starts pounding, and I'm afraid to look back at what's finally caught me. I start to scream for help as the hand has a grip on my body. The more I scream, the tighter they squeeze.
Until I wake up...
"Brynne, what's wrong?"
I jolt up into an upright position.
Ouch, my back.
Beads of sweat are running down my face and chest. My heart is beating a mile a minute. Even though it's dark, I can see the outline of Blake's body in front of me, his arm still on my shoulder. I struggle to catch my breath.
"It's just a dream. You're okay," He reassures.
He starts to wipe the sweat off of my forehead. My head is killing me. I grab his arm to balance myself. I think that I might throw up. When was the last time I took my medicine? Most likely, it was yesterday, before my trip to the hospital.
I grab my stomach and run for dear life to the bathroom.
I made it just in time before I got sick and ran to the toilet. I don't know what I am throwing up since I haven't eaten in twenty-four hours, but it's not pleasant. After cleaning myself up, I walk to the door and open it very slowly, hoping not to disturb anyone else.
As I turn to go back to my bedroom, I bump into what seems to be a soft wall. I feel a hand on my hips.
Blake.
"You feeling alright?" He asks.
It doesn't seem like he's showing much interest in how I'm feeling because he's staring straight at my boobs.
I knew I shouldn't have worn a tank top.
But I didn't have a choice. It was the only thing I had under my sweatshirt.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I respond shortly.
He clenches his jaw and lifts his head so he can see over me. I try and slip past him, back to the bedroom. His hand reaches for mine but brushes my thigh on the way. I feel my stomach start to turn.
Is he trying to mess with me?
"Where are you going?"
I stop and face him.
"Back to sleep," I say with a questioning tone.
Where else would I be going?
"Oh," He clears his throat.
YOU ARE READING
One Perfect Day
RomanceCancer. It's a curse. It turns people's lives upside down and ruins their relationships. Brynne Foster is a perfect example. After being diagnosed with leukemia at age 17, Brynne's family struggles to accept her decision of refusing chemotherapy...