I seemed to glide into the room after the others were already there, a wraith of myself. We sat around the table. The room was deathly silent. I could barely contain myself. I wanted to scream out all my misery at the twelve of us and at him, especially at him for the weight that rested against my leg...
I'm not sure how and when I get there exactly or what day I cross over the line. It feels like it happens in a few moments, maybe in the same amount of time it takes to run across a busy highway, guessing when it is okay to run to the other side. Then, halfway through, I realize cars are racing towards me much faster than just moments before. Too late; I have already made the decision to cross. No turning back now. The only thing left to do is either freeze in my spot or take the chance and run like hell, hoping to get across alive. I feel the wind of the cars swish past me. Each time they miss my body, leaving me intact, I forget about the choice I make to cross dangerously in the first place.