She wanted to melt back into the front door. Her hands trembled as she covered her mouth to avoid alerting the entire neighborhood.
She took deep, calming breaths, counting to ten as she folded into a corner of the wall, staring at the bird. Her heart pounded, her palms clammy, her breathing uneven.
What do I do? Fear.
What do I do? Panic.
What the hell do I do? Anger.
She ran her fingers through her hair. Someone had the audacity to mess with her at a time like this?
She could barely function, barely sleep—and now this?
Her teeth clenched as rage bubbled to the surface. Someone had broken into her house, killed a bird, and left it for her to find. They wanted her scared. Well, screw them.
With shaky hands, she snapped pictures of the scene. Evidence. Proof of their twisted little game.
Was this funny to them?
She stood abruptly, kicking the bird across the room before regret washed over her. She smacked her forehead, muttering, "Poor thing didn't deserve this."
