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THE GLASS WALL<br />
A WEEK LATER, something startles me awake. I sit up. My head is foggy with sleep but my<br />
heart is awake and racing. It knows something that my head doesn’t yet know.<br />
I glance at the clock. 3:01 A.M. My curtains are closed, but I can see a glow from Olly’s<br />
room. I drag myself over to the window and push aside the curtains. His entire house is<br />
ablaze with lights. Even the porch light is on. My hearts speeds up even more.<br />
Oh, no. Are they fighting again?<br />
A door slams. The sound is faint but unmistakable. I gather the curtains in my fist and<br />
wait, willing Olly to show himself. I don’t wait for long because just then he stumbles<br />
onto the porch as if he’s been pushed.<br />
The urge to go to him fills me up like it did the last time. I want to go to him. I need to<br />
go to him, to comfort him, to protect him.<br />
He regains his balance with his usual speed and spins to face the door with fists<br />
clenched. I brace along with him for an attack that doesn’t come. He remains in fighter<br />
stance, facing the door, for a full minute. I’ve never seen him so still.<br />
Another minute passes and then his mom joins him on the porch. She tries to touch his<br />
arm but he jerks away and doesn’t even look at her. Eventually she gives up. As soon as<br />
she’s gone, all the tension leaves his body. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes<br />
and his shoulders begin to shake. He looks up to my window. I wave, but he doesn’t<br />
respond. I realize he can’t see me because my lights are off. I run to the switch. But by the<br />
time I return to the window, he’s gone.<br />
I press my forehead, my palms, my forearms against the glass.<br />
I’ve never wanted out of my skin more.