My hands are shaky as I reach for my purse.
I fumble with my phone when I try to pick it up.
Fucking hell.
I slam my head back against the seat, my heart racing, my chest tight, my tears falling.
Why did I go out that night?
Why did I go to that hotel with that guy?
Why the fuck did I do something as dumb as leaving a hotel and walking the streets alone after midnight?
I madly wipe my tears and suck air into my lungs.
I’m going to do this.
I’m going to get out of this car and walk into the cinemas.
I can do this.
More deep breaths.
I reach for the door handle.
My head spins and the car park closes in on me.
Oh God, I’m going to die.
Someone is here.
It’s too much.
I can’t breathe.
I need to get out of here.
I try to turn the key in the ignition but my arm and hand are so jittery I can’t do it. That only heightens my panic, and I completely lose my shit.
I’m crying.
I’m screaming.
I’m fucking drowning.
And then my phone rings.
It scares the shit out of me because I wasn’t expecting it. It also floods me with relief; the phone feels like a lifeline and I snatch it up fast.
“Hello?” It comes out a mess in amongst my tears and fears.
“Zara? Is that you?”
Marissa.
Why is she calling me?
“Yeah, it’s me.”