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He took the hand she offered.
Bianca froze. The instant they touched, she felt it. Hot and cold. Sick and strong. Crazy and sane. The storm of mixed emotions and sensations weakened her knees and stole the air from her lungs. Her head spun. Every heartbeat was an explosion inside of her chest that sent shards of apprehension slicing through her.
Her visions came that way sometimes. Not always with such force, but occasionally that way. Other times what she could see came gently floating in, like a daydream, then filtering back out. The sensation of being, without the shock of what it was.
This time, it was merciless. The experience yanked Bianca out of reality, then cast her into another place and time. It happened so abruptly, she felt her knees buckle. The woozy feeling she associated with blacking out washed over her in thick waves.
Then, suddenly, there was the rope. She felt it, coarse around her neck, tearing into her delicate skin. With dull realization, Bianca knew it was fastened to the branch of a tree.
She heard the preacher's voice and the murmur of fervent prayer from the crowd. She felt panic, pain, and fear, aware that it was the end. Her end.