The night passes slowly as it always does. I hear my father’s voice although he is no longer here. My memories are stuck on rewind, repeating random things as they fly to the front of my mind. It haunts me until I can no longer bear it.

Maggie is snoring a few feet from my head. I rock, paper, scissored her for the bed and she won. We made up a small pallet on the floor for me, but it’s more like a blanket and a sheet. They’re tangled from my tossing and turning. I push them aside and sit up, rubbing my stinging eyes. Maggie’s old clock glows softly next to her bed. It’s almost 6am.

My body aches like I was shoved down an elevator shaft, but I push myself off the floor and head over to her narrow window. The shouts that filled the building last night have grown quiet. The woman overhead cried out one last time a few hours ago, and then something heavy hit the floor. I wonder if one of them is dead. The sounds that make my skin crawl have receded into silence.

I lean against the wall and wrap my arms around my middle as I gaze out the narrow, hazy window. The sun is yet to spill over the horizon and the city is still painted in darkness. The sidewalks below are mostly empty. The groups of people standing in clusters have dissolved. The figures in the shadows are gone.

Sometimes I wonder if the monsters in my mind are worse than the ones on the street. I came from the streets, so did Maggie. We survived so much and yet, I can’t escape the memories that haunt me night after night. Add my father’s death to the mix and I’m a walking time bomb. I wish I could say I know who I am and that the events of my past didn’t change me, but I can’t even imagine my life without those occurrences. If my mother hadn’t left me alone, if she didn’t do what she did, what kind of woman would I be? If she was a good person and raised me, where would we be now?

I swallow hard and force the questions away. They serve no purpose and will only pull me backward. I fought so hard to get away from that life, but it lives forever in the back of my mind. I hear her voice and the familiar slurred speech. I remember the sting of her hand on my cheek and too many nights spent shivering in a dark closet, while she lived a life that didn’t consider me. Most parents want to protect their children, but not my mom. She didn’t want me. She lived for herself and that’s the one thing that frightens me most—that I’ll become her.

My fingers tighten into my sides as I try not to shudder, because the apartment is freezing. God, this place reminds me of that past life. I don’t know how Maggie can stand it. I glance over at her and think about the things I could do for us if I had that money. I could save her from this—

But who will save you? The little voice in my head whispers.

Dad won’t come and rescue me this time. This time the only way out of this mess is through Bryan Ferro. I’ve endured more hardships than most people see in a lifetime, I can survive whatever he wants to dish out—I just don’t know if I’ll like the woman I become because of it.

Some things aren’t worth the price. I’ve learned that firsthand, and now here I am, repeating my mother’s actions.

I grit my teeth and mutter under my breath, “I’m not the same…it’s not the same thing.”

My gaze falls to the window sill and I instinctively lean toward it, pressing my fingertips against the cold glass. I don’t understand what I’m seeing at first. Someone is standing in the shadow of the building across the way. They’re inside a room, a floor down from where I stand in Maggie’s building, across the street. The person is a silhouette with no defining characteristics. I think it’s a woman, but I’m not certain. She’s stepping backward slowly. Her hands lift, like a dog is about to pounce on her stomach. Suddenly, her spine goes straight and she stops moving. The window is so narrow that I can’t see much more than her slender figure through the gauzy drapes.

A moment later she goes limp and falls forward. Her hair cascades behind her, falling in slow motion. I hear nothing but Maggie’s nasal breaths, but her silent scream is ringing in my ears. A taller form—a man—steps into the spot where the woman once stood. His shoulders are rounded, like he’s not worried about a thing, as he shakes his head and surveys the floor like there’s something amusing.

My throat tightens as I watch in horror, frozen in place. At that moment, the man looks up and glances out the window. Our eyes lock and time stops as an unseen force steals my breath. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I stare, unable to look away.

Maggie told me to keep my eyes down and not say a damn thing to anyone, but I can’t, and even worse—I recognize him and his bright blonde hair. It’s the man who lives across the hall.