Grandma is going to kill me…maybe it won’t matter, since I’m already dead.
A brilliant cluster of stars littered the sky, as though someone had scattered handfuls of them with no care for where they fell. She’d been discarded in the same way, like trash scattered by a pack of hungry dogs.
But Alexia wasn’t garbage, and her friends had done this.
Pain pulsed over every inch of her body.
The pounding of dancehall music saturated the night air as a chill settled in her bones. Somewhere in Montego Bay, another party was happening.
She turned her head and, through the slit of one eye, realized she was spread on the grass surrounding the deck. The reflection of moonlight from the water in the nearby pool splintered into shards that magnified her headache. They’d turned off the lights on the back patio, as if to forget what they had done.
How much time had passed? An hour? Two?
She inhaled, and it was as if an arrow struck her chest, piercing her lungs. The air hitched in her throat and she mewled, then took shallow breaths. Anything more hurt. Her torso and back were aflame. Thick liquid from her forehead blinded her, but she couldn’t make either hand obey her commands. They’re probably broken. The thought amplified the torment racking her entire frame, and fresh tears oozed onto her cheeks.
Time crept by and with it came awareness of her surroundings. Heavy footfalls alerted her to an approaching figure. Alexia angled her head to catch sight of the person but in the soft light, her vision was blurry.
“Help me,” she whispered. “Please.”
A mature woman hovered next to her, eyes pulled wide. “Dear God. Hold on, chile, mi soon come back.”
As tears seeped into Alexia’s hair, the agonizing waves of torture won. She released her grip on reality and floated to where the soothing silence waited.