I Crave You

“Let me go,” she demands quietly but firmly. “You’ve mixed it up. My fingers loosen and slide off her bare shoulders. You mixed it up? Impossible. Why would she say it like that?”

“Hey, парень,” another voice cuts through the fog. “You really got it wrong. My friend is called something else.”

“No. It’s her. She! I’m sure. I can see. I feel. Everything inside me stands on edge. I’ve never mistaken this girl for anyone. There’s only one snag. She’s dead—she bled out right in my hands. Exactly a year ago.”