I woke up in my room, propped up against the dresser, a pile of cold ashes in the corner.
I cried.
I had lost the book. I lost it.
No one knew the true title. It had been called so many things. So many different takes on the simple text. But i had never done as much as cracked the spine or turned the first page. I was afraid of the knowledge that came with it. It had been said to change minds, lives. I wasn't ready for that, was I?
And now I would never have the opportunity to find out.
He had the book.
I smashed a fist on the ground in anger and gritted my teeth. How could I let the bastard get away? The memory of something smashing into my head made things a little clearer. I had had no chance.