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Traci paced up and down her hallway. She had a feeling that she had something to do with the murder at the casino; so much so that she had called the cops four times by noon. The first two times had resulted in patrol cars visiting her residence. The first time was to take a statement, the second was just in case she was right, but that visit ended in a warning. The third call they ignored her and the fourth they wrote her a citation.
Back and forth she walked, and every time she turned around she pinched herself. This is what her therapist recommended due to the fact that she sometimes relied on cutting to calm her nerves. She couldn’t wait any longer, she had to call Cheryl and tell her not to come. she didn’t want to bother her any more than she had already done.
Traci walked out into her living room pinching herself as she did and in doing so passed her library doorway. Stopping before her body moved further away she took one step backwards, and looked into the room using only her peripheral vision. She listened closely and barely breathed lest she miss something important. She looked down at her left arm and was instantly reminded to stop pinching, her fingers were white and her skin that they held onto was bright red.