My Dear Harry

His head was heavy. A thick pain could be felt on his forehead. His veins pulsated as he started to move. He was dizzy, disorientated. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. He struggled to pick himself up with one arm. When he mustered up the strength he only crumbled in pain. He hadn't noticed the wound protruding from his side. And he hit the floor with a painful shrill. When he looked up, he remembered.

Dona was all he thought. He remembered his phone was in his back pocket. He wiggled about to only be startled by something looking at him down the hallway. It cracked the door open, ever-so-slightly. He knew it was there, he was there. He thought it a man, a human. He nearly called out to it in a rage until the door flung open with a thud. His heart rate did not need time to respond, it immediately grew in pace. His fingers felt buttered as he tried to grab his phone. Its hand appeared first, out of the darkness of the room.