Page 54 - The Houseguest

hoax was being played on me? Were the nightmares returning, or was I slipping back into that dark area in my mind where control of any rational thought-process was all but impossible?
Waking up on the kitchen floor next to the empty bottle, I tried to sit up. But the pain in my head rerouted my plans, so I stayed there attempting to regain full consciousness. Images in my mind began to slowly remind me of what happened yesterday. The rhythmic pounding inside my head synchronized with my heartbeat as it pulsated through my temples.
The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life
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