Chapter 22 Part 1

Charlie

The pitch black room doesn’t make my escape any easier. After prying Maxwell’s arm off me, I slip out of bed in search for the door. I contemplate opening the curtains, allowing me to see where the exit is without bumping into furniture, but I decide it would be best to have Maxwell continue sleeping. So, with my eyes open as wide as possible, which is useless, and my arms outstretched before me to guide the way, I start the treacherous walk.

I hold my breath with each tiptoe across the floor. The fact that I probably look like Frankenstein crosses my mind. The rattling of something on top of what I believe to be the dresser echoes throughout the room as I walk face first into it. The point of my hands protecting me from that very outcome proves worthless as I underestimate the fact that my brain doesn’t register objects until it’s too late. My body goes rigid until the rattling object becomes silent again. Wishful thinking of if Maxwell does wake up he won’t be able to see me