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No. No.
I went nauseous.
Oh God. Stop.
Then, the movie shifted to small hands strangling someone with a pillow.
Stop it!!
The fucked up movie ended and then disappeared.
Finally, the ceiling returned to peacefully white.
D-did I. . .imagine that. . .or?
My heart pounded in my chest as my hands clenched into fists.
“Em,” Max whispered.
I snapped my view to him.
“Are you okay?” His eyes were wide with fear. “You’ve been staring at that ceiling for a good ten minutes and sweating like you were walking through a desert.”
“T-ten minutes?” I blinked. “That wasn’t a few seconds?”
“Hell no.”
Out of nowhere, Delphine appeared on my right and set down a glass of red liquid. “Go ahead and drink that.”
I still had my hands fisted, but now they shook. “I s-saw stuff.”
“I bet you did. Now drink.”
My mind whirled.
The room spun a little.
Sweat trickled down the back of my neck.
I clenched my hands into tighter fists, forcing my nails to bite into my palms.
Hold on. Just hold on.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the room to stop its dizzying spin. Then, I focused on my breathing, drawing in deep, shuddering breaths.
Once I opened my eyes, I looked down at my hand and suddenly realized that I was holding the glass. “Who put this in my hand?”
Still standing in front of me, Delphine stared with a neutral expression. “You picked it up.”
“When?”
Maxwell studied me across the table. His eyes held concern. “Em, are you okay?”
“Max, y-you saw me pick that glass up?”
He nodded. “About five minutes ago. You’ve been holding it the whole time.”
“F-five minutes.” I blinked. “I’m. . .losing time.”
