The longer I stare at Anthony and he doesn't wake up, the more I panic. What if he's dead? What if I didn't just slam the vase in his head for him to pass out? I walk around him, trying to get a good look at his face. He doesn’t appear to be breathing, but maybe I’m just panicking way too much. So, I try not to panic and wait for him to stir, which he hasn’t done in the last ten minutes since I’ve been here standing over him. I decide that I’ve had enough. If he’s dead, then I’d rather know now than wait for longer. I kneel down, barely breathing as I reach out, and press two fingers against his neck, feeling for a pulse. My own heartbeat is so loud that it drowns out everything else. But then—a faint throb under my fingertips. He’s alive.I let out a sharp exhale of relief, though it’s short-lived. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, a groggy confusion clouding his gaze as he begins to stir and come to his senses. For a moment, he looks like he doesn’t recognize me, his gaze unfocused
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