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Slack.com slash DHQ. With no life-threatening injuries, the hospital

released me later on that evening. The phone in my pockets rifled with texts and miss calls

from Georgia. Hopefully by the tone of them, she wouldn't be too heartbroken of Hank doesn't

make it back. I sure as shit won't go back there with those creatures running around.

No, I made my mind up to end this one way or another. As much as it kills me, I hadn't

gone to check on the kids. Not only would it confuse them, but there's a chance they'd

be in danger if the other me saw that I was there. What the hell would a scumbag like

that want with children though? If anything, it had to be getting in his way by now. The

dangers they could be facing stabbed in my heart like needle-pointed blades. I just have

to keep going. If I stop long enough to let everything sink in, it'll fatally absorb

me. I can't let that happen. Like depicted in the old television shows

and freaky Friday specials, I figured the only way to get out of this mess is the same

way I'd gotten into it. I need to hunt him down, find him, and hit him. My car doesn't

take long to locate, and I feel like I'm running out of time to save myself. I sit around

the corner for my own house, cringing inside that someone else is living in it. It's torturous

to picture Hank's spirit rifling through my drawers, using my toilet emptying my fridge.

I sit and excruciating weight until he decides to leave the house without the kids. I'd

...