Jason

"'Jason,' it said, my full name this time.

The syllables were perfect.

The warmth was perfect.'

But there was a thin, dry rasp underneath, like someone had been practicing the sound on a throat that didn't quite know how to work.

Open up.

I want to see you.

I stood there in the kitchen, two rooms away, my hands gripping the counter so hard my knuckles went white.

Tears pricked my eyes, not from fear at first, but from this painful, stupid longing.

I missed my mom.

I wanted to hug her.

to step back into some simpler version of myself that existed before long, red canyons and voices and things that knew my name.

Jay, it said again, softer now.

Come on, it's cold out here.

Something in me unglued.

My feet carried me down the hallway, almost of their own accord.

I stopped when I could see the door, but not the doorknob.

I could see its shadow on the floor, the faint line of light from the hall spilling in under the threshold.

I reached out.

My hand was inches from the knob when I heard another voice, my own this time from just behind my left ear.

Don't.