Francis rose to his feet and moved toward her, his hand outstretched to touch.However, his fingers met only air.The vision vanished.Then, in the dead of night, Francis awoke to find 'me' seated at the edge of his bed, turned away, bearing the marks of injury."Natalie?" His voice was a whisper, barely there, as if he feared shattering the silence.She faced him, her features void of emotion. "Why didn't you save me?""I..." Panic seized Francis.She said softly, "You promised to protect me, but you were the one who killed me.""I didn't!" Francis bolted upright and flicked on the light.The room was empty.Except for me, a ghost, unseen by him.The visions kept coming, more and more often. Sometimes it was the fifteen-year-old me, huddled in a sea of red, whispering to him, "Do you want to live?"Sometimes the twenty-year-old me, reeling from my first kill, so sick I could barely stand, wishing he would just hold me.Other times, it was me at the moment of death, hangin
더 보기