was running away.
"Katy," I heard. "Katy, don't close your eyes. Stay with me, Katy."
It echoed unnaturally in my ears. My laughter died down and the back of my head started throbbing again. I braved the pain to reach back and touch the warm patch. My fingers touched something wet and sticky and I jerked my arm back. Out of pure instinct, I glanced down at my fingertips. They were cherry juice red and shaking. Covered in fresh blood.
I looked up and focused on Tristan as best as I could.
"I don't feel so hot," I moaned, and fell to my knees.
He stared down at me with his coal black eyes and his mouth moved like he was saying something. But I couldn't hear him. My mouth hung open. He must've asked me a question, because he cocked his head to the side in a simply yummy manner. My heart skipped a beat. NOT THE TIME TO BE OBSESSING OVER CUTE GUYS!!! I strained my eyes and my ears. If I could see anything, hear anything, I would be happy.
My hearing fuzzed back enough to let me hear him say, "Oh God. Not her. Not now," but, simultaneously, my vision faded to black.
As you can imagine, my victory dance did not last long. What was wrong with my head? Did I really smash it that hard? Why didn't this happen right after we fell? I felt a painful anxiety in my chest and my stomach flipped. What if I never got over this?
I blinked, trying to something, anything. I would be overjoyed with a color besides black, even. But no matter how hard I tried, I could only make out the basic shape of a human male, the corner of a flight of stairs, and the outline of a large picture window. And I didn't remember there being a window in the stairwell.
"Tristan," I croaked. "Call 911."
My head was reeling. Everything that I actually could see was spinning and shaking. I thought I was going to throw up.
