Eighteen

Hazel.

My entire being quivered with fear, each pulse of my heart reverberating through my ears like a relentless drumbeat. Waves of dizziness and nausea assaulted me, leaving me reeling in their wake. I clutched my knees tightly to my chest, seeking relief in their embrace, yet finding none. Attempting to steady myself, I rocked back and forth, a futile effort in the face of such overwhelming situation.

"Hazel," a distant voice pierced through the haze, its echo hauntingly indistinct. My surroundings blurred into a disorienting swirl, distorting even the sound of my own name. Only the sensation of a hand upon my shoulder managed to anchor me to reality, eliciting a startled gasp as I jerked upright to meet the gaze of its owner.

"He's on his way," she assured me, but comprehension eluded my grasp like grains of sand slipping through desperate fingers. "We're safe, Hazel, don't be afraid," she continued, though her words failed to quell the rising tide of unease within me. How could