Ava

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’ve been pacing my room for the past hour, wringing my hands together like some crazed drug addict. My knuckles are white with tension, my fingernails digging into my skin as I close my fists as tight as they will go.

I want to scream, but my voice is too raw from crying.

Damn tears.

I got carried away, swept up in the emotions of the moment. I let myself fall prey to the animalistic urges I’ve tried so hard to ...