Everyday it gets harder to force myself out of bed. Bitter sunlight peeks around the drawn shades, trekking after me mercilessly, beckoning me to awaken. I curse, pull the blankets around me and flip away– and find myself nose to nose with someone who shouldn’t be in my bed.

My back arches and a breath hisses from my mouth. I scramble backwards, my heels fighting against tangled bedsheets, searching for traction. My left hand finds the wall, my right, the wand from my nightstand. Barely two seconds have passed, and I am ready to kill.

But then it is only Cara, and she is already dead.