Page 20 of Shattered Echoes

“You almost died, Antonio, and you're the only sibling he has left — of course it's to be expected of him.”

“Why do you all think I end my life?” I try not to snap at him.

“That's not what I'm saying…”

“I didn't do it on purpose,” I cut him off. “I got high, and things just got out of control,” I explain.

Henry sighs on the other line.

“I was really worried about you, man. We all were.”

“I get it, okay. I fucked up. But listen, I'm trying to make things work again. I'm trying to be better.”

“I know you can be,” his voice is so encouraging.

I feel so ashamed about my drug addiction and all the pain that I've caused for those around me. I want to be better, and I'm trying my best to do so.

“I'll get better, Henry,” I say to him. “I'll focus on my recovery.”

“I trust you, man. You just do what you have to do.”

I sigh and nod my head.

“I have to go now, Antonio. We'll talk some other time.”

“Okay, man. Thanks for reaching out. I appreciate it.”

“Take care, buddy.”

“Yeah, you too.”

He hangs up the phone.

It feels good hearing from him again after all this time. And he was right about my brother's love. I owe it to them and to myself to be better.

I park the truck and step out to get the groceries from the backseat. I stop for a second to admire Colette while she's busy washing her truck in her driveway. My heart skips as I feel something crack open inside me, but I'm too upset to dwell on anything right now.

With my groceries in my hand, I head into the house. I put the groceries away and decide to go shower and clear my head.

7

Colette

Atwig snaps, the sound like a gunshot in the stillness.

My breath catches in my throat as irrational fear grips me. Something… no, someone is out there, lurking, hunting.

The shadows contort, stretching and morphing until a towering silhouette emerges, all harsh angles and a cold promise of violence. I try to run, to flee from the dreaded figure giving chase, but my feet are laden with lead weights, allowing the darkness to gain ground with every struggled step.

Suddenly, the dim veil lifts, and I stand in the heart of a forest. The ancient trunks loom like ominous sentries, their gnarled branches reaching out in futile warning as the shadowy figure resolves into a painfully familiar visage.

My ex-husband's face - a twisted mask of rage and hunger.

"You can't escape me, Colette," he growls, the timbre of his voice scraping like rusted nails along my spine. "You'll never be free of me."

I open my mouth to scream, but no sound emerges past the lump of terror in my throat. Stumbling backwards, I turn and run blindly through the shadowed trees, branches whipping against my face and tearing at my clothes.

The vile cadence of his laughter pursues me like the baying of hell hounds, growing louder no matter which direction I flee.

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