Page 145 of Five Year Secret

I grab for the mantel. My fingers scrape rough brick, but my hand closes on the vase instead.

It’s cold.

Heavy.

Useless.

My shoulder hits with a thud, and heat blasts through my side. The sting of sweat blinds me for a second, and the air leaves my lungs so fast it’s like I never had any.

Glass shatters. The ladder crashes down on my legs.

I lie there stunned for a moment, then shove the ladderoff. My hand slips on something, maybe sweat, or the water from the vase.

I try to push up, but my hand is oddly limp and won’t cooperate.

Then I see it. Blood pooling fast, spreading bright across the patio.

My friends shout as they circle above me. I turn my face away.

“Don't—” I try to wave them off with my other hand. “Just give me a second to?—”

But the blood keeps coming. The yard sways. My breath won’t come. The red spreads.

And then everything goes black.