Brandon's POV
The strange thing about falling apart was that sometimes you didn't even hear the crack.
I woke up feeling like somebody had split my skull open and stuffed broken glass inside it.
Pain throbbed behind my eyes.
Slow, heavy, and merciless.
I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut again, hoping maybe if I gave myself another second I'd wake up somewhere else.
My room.
My bed.
Anywhere but wherever this was.
Unfortunately, the pain remained.
And so did the strange smell around me.
Not home.
Definitely not home.
I forced one eye open.
Then the other.
My vision blurred for a moment before gradually coming together.
A cream-colored ceiling stared back at me.
Different.
The walls were painted a warm gray with framed pictures hanging neatly around them. There were small shelves by the wall carrying books and tiny decorative plants. A television sat opposite me, mounted above a wooden cabinet lined with candles and little souvenirs.
Everything looked too neat.
