Something foreign, a revenant dragged back from the barrier between life and death, something capable of bending that boundary, stretching it, pulling people to the other side.
Did Lake make it up in post-traumatic shock… ornot?
The moment I killed Oswald resurfaces in my memory. The awareness of what I did presses on me, hard, heavy.
His gray face, those empty eyes, his body stiffening under my touch.
I slide down even further, my head pounding as I lie flat on the floor.
And I fall asleep.
???
I have no idea what time it is as I open my eyes, but I’m still on the floor, my phone next to me. I’m cold, trembling, unhappy.
LOST.
I have to talk to him, I have to hear his voice…
I am losing my mind.
A sob rips out of my chest, the emotions too strong for me to control, as I grab my phone and look at my contact list.
The last call I made to his number was on the day we split.
I look through our last text exchange.
July eighth.
"We will be there in half an hour!" followed by a string of heart emojis and eggplants…
The last carefree text that ever passed between us.
I look at the call history and then at that cursed green button that has haunted me all these years.
I dreamed of pressing it.
I hated that I never did.
Now is the time.
To face him without masks or role-playing.
With a trembling finger, I press the green call button.
It takes exactly five rings before Bay answers.
Wow.
His voice sounds completely different from how it used to!
"Hello, Alex."
It is deeper, steadier, more serious, more masculine… Well, he was eighteen back then, after all… alphas keep maturing and growing longer than other subgenders.
How neutral he sounds, not what I expected at all, but that does not mean I should give up or back down from what I came here to say…
For a moment I struggle with myself, and then I finally let it out.
