Her saline breath fogged up the mirrors in miniscule clouds of wishes unspoken and fairy dust. She leaned her head against the wall with the mirrors, pressing her ear firmly to the beyond as the room shuddered and groaned in impending silence. Not even five minutes before, not even five, she had heard the periwinkle sobbing, the oh so hollow thump. The drugs were won and the deed was done, but how long in this neverland until he shook his bloody finger at me, she thought.
The doorknob twitched in its casing, back and forth while she, still listening, attempted her best to ignore it. Fairy circles. Avocado tears. Turqoise ground. It wasn’t long before the door groaned, threatened to swallow her up, replaced by the five foot seven inch hulk of bloody fingers. And this time, he was angry.