one week later.
the weird bruises kept showing up.
they didn't hurt.
they tugged on me.
on my soul.
...they've started changing colors.
?
who's jason?
"hello?"
"CLEMENTINE!
WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?
WE'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK!!"
"w-who is this?"
"..."
"if this is a prank call, this isn't funny."
"clem. it's me. jason."
"how do i know you? i cant seem to, uh"
remember.
"are you just trying to get me to do one of my famous dramatic retellings of the story of how we became friends?"
"..."
i had to think quickly.
"yes."
jason then spent an hour telling me the story of how we met and weren't close when we were younger, but now in our sophomore year we told eachother everything.
because we were part of two completely different crowds.
we could trust eachother to not tell anyone because, well
neither of us knew anyone that knew the other.
i remember him.
"haha! just a funny prank dude! i've been kind of sick and a bit... out of it lately."
"it's alright, clem."
it's alright, clem.
"gotta go, baby."
"hehe, me too baby doll.
goodnight jason."
i hang up.
he was the first person i forgot.
and now he is the only person i
remember...
