𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆
'It starts and ends with you and me.'
When a young girl finds herself stuck in a movie, she quickly learns that the only way out is to make it to the ending. But when an ill-fated character worms his way into her life, she fears...
THE fun in question looked like a booth in a diner with fictional Mildred Meeks' fictional friends. But the perks of it being her birthday is cancellation privileges. Did Milly have to feign sickness in order to attain them? Absolutely. But a few coughs over a phone call with Chris Noel was a quick fix.
This gap in her schedule opened an avenue to plan, assess and convene. This meant circling significant checkpoints on her new map: Welton Academy, Mildred's house. There were still things missing—Ridgeway High, Chet's house, the famous cave—but with time, she was sure that all of these things would become another cross on her map.
She folded the map back up once she was done, sliding it into the first desk draw. Then she pulled her typewriter towards her, making use of it. Her knowledge of how to use it stemmed from that week they studied the development of printing in English class.
She took back all curses of wasted time. "Sorry, Mrs Levinson."
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Her second forefinger hovered over the 'I' key, something in her jolting at the thought of finishing the final point on her list.
Looking him in the eyes today was hard enough. One may look dozens of people in the eye a day, and you know one day in the future they will die. But seeing that kid, real or not, and knowing the how, the when, the where and the why, was torture.
So instead she decided to leave the list the way it is, taking it out of the typewriter and sliding it in her draw with the folded map and the rest of her stationary.
The next morning rolled in fast, even in spite of the endless minutes spent staring at a ceiling that wasn't really her own. When that ever so slight silver line between the curtains met her eyes, Milly felt invigorated.
She was ready to conquer a day that had much in store. Because albeit another day trapped in limbo, it's also another day closer to getting answers. To getting home.
On the way to the staircase, she stopped at Steven's room, wondering if his birthday away from home troubles him. He had his friends, he had debauchery, but he didn't have freedom.
The moment Milly step foot in the kitchen, her 'mother' dished out breakfast and her 'father' read his morning newspaper. It looked like something straight out of 50's sitcom.
A woman with her short hair curled to perfection, her small apron wrapped over her blue dress with white polka dots and short sleeves. A man with his suit and tie, and one foot on the floor by his briefcase, the other hanging in the air from the calf rested against his lower thigh.
But Milly knew in her gut that she fit the picture. She had spent a half hour picking at clothes to replicate an outfit in the latest edition of Women Weekly on her shelf. A navy blue short-sleeved top with a red plaid skirt and a lighter blue necktie scarf—flats on her feet as a learning curve from yesterday's escapade across the grass.
