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Mr. Danya
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“Oh. You're right.”

He tried to look down at his neck, but of course he just wound up looking at the floor. Matt was right: someone could just blow these things up, and he’d be dead and he wouldn’t even know why or who was close to coming to save him. Someone could be coming to save him right now, and he wouldn’t even know it and they probably wouldn’t know it either, and then he’d be dead.

“Oh no.” he whispered, staring back at Matt.

He suddenly couldn't breathe.

Sweat started to seep all over him, and tears started pooling in his eyes again. A relentless shaking was spreading through his body like an electrical shock, and his thoughts were rushing through his head at a million miles a minute.

Kaboom. Blown up. Nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do to stop it.

One hand went for the metal band. Then the other.

“Get it off.”

He started to pull. He had to get it off. It was choking him, and it would kill him. It was only a matter of time. It needed to come off right now.

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Dear God · Crematorium Chapel