SKYLAR
The pungent scent from the flower clings to the back of my throat like syrup. Everywhere I look, the walls around me tilt in a slow, sickening sway. My vision is blurred in smears of red and white. I blink hard, trying to clear it, but everything only grows softer around the edges. The lights in my apartment melt into watery halos. Even the sound of my own breathing feels distant.
No, no, no, no.
I try to move but my legs barely cooperate. Each attempt drags like I am trying to wade through wet cement. I need my phone. I need...
A laugh curls through the apartment. The sound seems to come from far away even though I can feel someone behind me.
"Well," the stranger drawls, his voice echoing strangely in my head, "that worked faster than I expected."
