Part One

The blinking cursor taunted her.

Once, twice, multiple times it flashed, waiting for the words—the ones she needed for an assignment, the same one due by the end of the week.

The one she couldn’t write.

Frustrated, she slammed her laptop shut and shoved it to the side of her bed before flopping on her comforter, her arms covering her face. What’s wrong with me? The thought flared, and she rolled over, covering her ears with her hands. I’ve never had trouble writing an essay before. Unbidden, a kernel of memory flared, and she squeezed her eyes shut. No, I’m not going there!

She bolted upright and swung her legs over the side, her hands gripping the edge of her bed, eyes staring at the carpet. When was the last time I vacuumed? Lips pursed, she glanced around and huffed. Maybe a snack will help.

Downstairs, she gathered ingredients for a sandwich. Then, as she sat to eat, her body slumped, her sudden bout of energy gone. A familiar itch burned her throat. Teeth clenched, she shoved away from the table and moved to the nearby window. The sky, overcast and gray, promised rain. Nearby trees swayed in the breeze. Maybe a change of scenery?

Her abrupt sniffle broke the deafening silence, and she hurriedly shoved her feet into her shoes and decided a quick stroll around the neighborhood would help. She paused at the closet but shook her head. She wouldn’t be gone long. Then, careful to avoid looking at the pictures decorating the wall, she grabbed her keys, locked the door, and fled.

The screen door slammed shut with a resounding bang.