Pushing the door open, I turn the light on, yelping in surprise when my foot catches on something. Someone… My blood turns to ice, and I try to focus on the body on the floor of the bathroom. This isn’t happening. Please, God, don’t let it be… And when my eyes focus, half of a prayer is answered. It’s not the boy who left me that’s lying still on the floor at my feet. It’s my father, with a needle sticking out of his arm and no color in his face. Which means half of my nightmares have been fulfilled instead.
Your dad is DEAD????
