phoe•nix
a person or thing regarded as uniquely remarkable in some respect
or
symbolizing immortality, resurrection, and life after death
[ mini series - novella to THE MANDELA EFFECT & DEJA VU ]
au
lower case intended
ft. the corey's, river phoe...
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"KENNEDY!" harrison and jason scream my name. "GET AWAY FROM THE WNDOWS!"
"just hang tight my love, alright?" corey asks, static slicing through the end of his sentence. "i'll see you on the other side."
the once calm dance floor has turned into an accidental mosh pit as everyone freaks out, trying to find cover from the possibility of the storm knocking over any heavy metal materials in the club.
it goes pitch black—the power has gone out, but it feels like something more.
something worse.
i'm hunched over, sudden pain in my chest as i struggle to breathe. i've never been electrically shocked before, but i can imagine this is what it feels like.
my lips are tingling, so are my fingertips, and my hair feels staticky.
wind from the storm is coursing through my ears and the only thing i can feel to ground myself is the phone still clutched in my hand.
"HARRISON?" i scream, hoping my friends can hear me over everyone panicking in the club. "JASON?"
the panicked conversations, the people tripping over each other, and the sound of glass breaking washes away and all i can hear is my own breathing.
a squeaking sound, like old, rusted metal moving for the first time in years echos loudly. the lights flicker on, taking a few tries before lighting up completely.
goosebumps rise onto every inch of my skin as my head whips in all directions.
i'm no longer in catch one with my friends.
i'm on an empty street, one i've been on before.
static coming through the phone startles me. it's not the payphone from catch one anymore, it's the payphone corey was using.
the cord is still severed from where i ripped it when the founder's rushed a truck at him and i.
i can't fathom how i got here. whatever the year might be, i'm not sure, but i know i am not in 2019 anymore.
"corey?" i whisper, eyes darting all around at the tall buildings that line the street and every other street in the distance.
none of the lights inside the buildings are on. there are no sounds besides the storm, nobody walking the streets, no cars, no horns blaring—nothing.
it's like a ghost town.
the sky is dark, my surroundings are almost impossible to make out with the complete lack of sunlight above. it looks as if the biggest tornado is about to spin through and destroy everything in sight.
there's almost a blue-ish tinge to the air, as if a large, blue planet took over the space of the sun and instead of warm, orange sunlight, cold, blue rays now shine down on earth.
