Ivan tried to walk from his room back down to leave the cottage. The small wooden cabin creaked under his steps, but he barely noticed. His legs were moving, but his mind was spinning. He could barely breathe. His chest felt too tight, and his heart beat too fast. His eyes, already cloudy with tears, couldn't see clearly. The hallway spun in front of him, and before he could take another step, his foot missed the edge of the stairs.
He slipped.
His body hit the wooden floor with a heavy thud, the wind knocked out of him. A sharp pain ran through his side, but it felt distant—like it belonged to someone else. The wooden ceiling above him blurred. He heard his heartbeat in his ears, loud and chaotic, like drums of war. His fingers curled against the floorboards as if he was bracing himself from falling deeper, into a hole he couldn't crawl out of.
