Status: Complete - February 22, 2018
Haunting Grey
Twenty-Three
"You're lying," she whispered.
I blink at her. In all of our time together, alive, she has never called me a liar. And I never was. With her, I always told the truth.
"I would never lie to you, especially about something so devastating," I tell her softly. There's a catch in my throat, and I swallow the lump that's built there. "You're dead, and I'm so sorry for that. I miss you all the time."
Her eyes are sharp. "Why me?" she demanded.
But I know she's really saying, Why not you, Travis? You go into those woods all the time. And yet you're still here. Your body is warm. You are breathing.
I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry," I said again. "This wasn't supposed to happen. We were supposed to be together, go to the same college, have a happy—"
"Life?" she finished bitterly, and I open my eyes. "Only one of us will ever have that."
"You feels cheated." I reach for her hand, but she pulled away. "You're supposed to have all of the same things as I do. It's not fair, I know."
Her words are chipped, angry. "What do you know, Travis? Tell me. Enlighten me. Because as far as I can tell, you're the one that got the better end of this deal."
Natalie is standing next to my bookshelf, and when she reaches out to touch a book, her fingers go through it. But she's so angry that she's able to swipe the book off the shelf and I have to duck as it comes at me.
"Natalie, calm down."
But she doesn't, and soon there's a tornado of books flying in mid-air, shooting off the walls and the bed post. One even knocks over my lamp—or Natalie does—I'm not sure. But once that stops, she advances on me.
"This isn't right!" she shouted in my face. Then she crumpled onto the floor, sobbing. "Why couldn't it have been you?"
I blink at her. In all of our time together, alive, she has never called me a liar. And I never was. With her, I always told the truth.
"I would never lie to you, especially about something so devastating," I tell her softly. There's a catch in my throat, and I swallow the lump that's built there. "You're dead, and I'm so sorry for that. I miss you all the time."
Her eyes are sharp. "Why me?" she demanded.
But I know she's really saying, Why not you, Travis? You go into those woods all the time. And yet you're still here. Your body is warm. You are breathing.
I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry," I said again. "This wasn't supposed to happen. We were supposed to be together, go to the same college, have a happy—"
"Life?" she finished bitterly, and I open my eyes. "Only one of us will ever have that."
"You feels cheated." I reach for her hand, but she pulled away. "You're supposed to have all of the same things as I do. It's not fair, I know."
Her words are chipped, angry. "What do you know, Travis? Tell me. Enlighten me. Because as far as I can tell, you're the one that got the better end of this deal."
Natalie is standing next to my bookshelf, and when she reaches out to touch a book, her fingers go through it. But she's so angry that she's able to swipe the book off the shelf and I have to duck as it comes at me.
"Natalie, calm down."
But she doesn't, and soon there's a tornado of books flying in mid-air, shooting off the walls and the bed post. One even knocks over my lamp—or Natalie does—I'm not sure. But once that stops, she advances on me.
"This isn't right!" she shouted in my face. Then she crumpled onto the floor, sobbing. "Why couldn't it have been you?"