Capitolo XIII

I woke up like something was tearing my spirit apart from my body. I sat up from the now sweaty sheets, heart racing, perspiration dripping down my temples and back. Disoriented, I bring my hands to massage the growing pain in my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I jumped from the sound of a hoarse voice in the corner of the room. I brought my hands down and I squinted at the direction of the voice. It was Lucas, in his white button down shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His ankle was on his knees, lazily still in his shoes while sipping a glass of Bourbon. I stared at him wondering what to say or if I should say anything. I saw the guilt in his eyes, dark circles under them. "I'm thinking," he said, drinking the last of his drink before setting the glass on the table. He pushed himself up and refilled the glass. "You should see someone about your PTSD."

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