𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐬 | pete davidson

twenty four: the phone call

Everything's gone.

All of it.

Burnt down to blackened skeletons of what it used to be.

She was standing outside of the Rolls Royce, her body still shaking from the sheer shock of seeing her home engulfed in the tallest flames Dahlia had ever seen.

Flames that appeared fuzzy in her tear-filled eyes continued to flicker as she continued to watch in horror and utter disbelief. Dahlia felt herself crumble, like a sturdy cable bridge beginning to collapse on itself. She hasn't realized it but in that moment, Dahlia had subconsciously regressed into her most vulnerable self. She found herself at the airport again, frightened and alone.

Although she was surrounded by people rushing past her from destination to destination, the airport might as well have been a ghost town to her.

She had left her terminal, putting one foot forward, one after the other. She had no direction yet she headed for the exit, the designated pickup area in hopes of calling herself a cab.

Stringing along a single black suitcase, she gripped onto its handle tightly as she pulled it close behind her. Everything she owned, her entire life, was enclosed within that one bag.

And if she were to ever come back, she remembered, what was in that suitcase was her ticket back home to Arizona.

Dahlia pictured it: the gold envelope encased in a blue wax seal.

Her temptations to open it while she sat on the plane ate away at her, fighting off the urge to until she found herself in the comfort of her hotel room.

As she wondered about the contents of the envelope, she began to imagine life back home.

Mom. Dad. Aaliyah. Lucky.

Lio.

I should have never left.
I should have never left.
I should have never left.

Just as these thoughts laid siege to Dahlia's already stressful state of mind, she quickened her pace in a half baked attempt to escape the regret that began to seed itself deep within her.

She pictured herself in her bedroom in Arizona. The competition medals, trophies, and ribbons along the wall across from her bed. Sitting with her back up against the bejeweled headboard, the canopy on the bed posts fluttered as the gust blew through her window.

Someone was climbing through her window, and she couldn't move.

"Excuse you!"

Dahlia had walked right into someone while she daydreamed of home. Blinking, she rubbed her eyes and took in her surroundings again. She found herself face to face with a man in a navy blue hoodie, black shades, and the hood over his head to further conceal his identity.

"I-I'm so sorry, I don't— I didn't mean to..." Dahlia's voice began to crack, her hand slapped over her mouth just as she heard it but she could not stop the stream that started to flow from her eyes.

"Hey... hey, it's cool. You're... you don't seem to be having the best day, are you?"

Wordlessly, Dahlia shook her head as she coddled herself soothingly. Her arms were crossed over her chest in an attempt to calm herself. She couldn't believe she was crying in public. And in front of a stranger no less.

"Please," the man offered a hand out to her. "Let me make your day better." He then pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to reveal himself to Dahlia.