Twenty-Three

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It only takes a split second for life to turn upside down. A blink, and nothing will ever be the same again. I should know that better than anyone, but apparently a life can suffer more than one upheaval, multiple moments to shock a person to the core and alter everything.

What happened?

A fist, still curled up in anger. A nose, bloodied, bruised. The scent of alcohol wafting from the floor, flooding my nostrils, taking me back to a place I was once before.

My feet stumble backwards, I have to escape this if it's the last thing I do. No way I can fall back to the person I was before. No way.

"Phoenix, wait."

Orson reaches, wanting to touch me, needing to feel like I'm still in the room with him, but I'm not. I'm running, becoming someone new, starting again.

Two broken people don't make a whole one. I should've learned that before.

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