Kendra S — Obsession

The plaster was warm. Not sun-warm. Blood-warm.

Not with a crash or a bang, but with a soft, wet sound—like lips parting. The crack widened into a seam, and the seam into an opening. Beyond it was not the attic insulation or the roof shingles or the cold outside air. Beyond it was a room. Her room. But wrong. kendra s obsession

Her mother didn’t look up from her coffee. “What crack?” The plaster was warm

She heard the voice again, but this time it wasn’t coming from the wall. It was coming from behind her. She spun around. but with a soft