Weird but Fucking Beautiful

Prologue: Tonight Feels Impossible

If there is one lesson I've learned in my 19 years of life, it's that receiving phone calls between midnight and 5 am is never a positive sign. I was abruptly awakened from a deep sleep by the sound of my phone ringing; upon checking the caller ID, I saw that it was Evie calling...at 3 am. I couldn't help but wonder why she would be calling at such an hour, considering that we had spent the entire day together.

"Evie, is everything alright? It's 3 am," I inquired, my voice laced with sleepiness. While I was sure she was aware of the time, my assumption was that she may have been out with friends drinking or smoking, and needed a ride home. I didn't mind that she called me, as I prefer her reaching out to me rather than driving under the influence. So, I attempted to sound understanding rather than irritated.

"Cassia, I'm sorry... I had no choice but to call you," she said, her voice trembling, indicating that she was in tears. My stomach sank, and anxiety flooded my body.

"What happened? Why are you crying?" I asked, my own voice now shaking with anxiety.

"It's Ronan... I...I think he lost control due to the rain..." she stuttered. A chilling feeling shot down my spine; I connect the dots that Ronan has clearly been in a bad accident despite her inability to complete the thought.

"Evie, take a deep breath... I'll come and pick you up. Are you at your house? Do you know where they took him?" I asked, swiftly standing up. I threw on a sweatshirt over my pajama top and slipped on some shoes as I made my way to the door.

*7 hours later*I sat in a hospital room, with Evie sleeping on the couch next to her brother's bed. Ronan was in critical condition. Several tests had been conducted on him throughout the morning. I glanced at my phone, noting that it was approximately 10 am. I had hardly slept a wink due to my overwhelming anxiety. Since my mother's passing in 6th grade, Evie's family has come to mean a lot to me. However, they had been facing difficulties ever since their mother and Evie's father died in a fire last month. It felt as though none of us could catch a break. Ronan simply had to pull through this. A doctor entered the room, bearing a serious and solemn demeanor.

"Miss Anderson, I have some bad news. Should I awaken Miss Casamino?" the doctor asked. I glanced over at Evie, who was peacefully asleep. She needed the rest. I stood up and walked over to the doctor.

"We can discuss this outside the room. I will ensure that she is informed later," I suggested, exiting the hospital room. Once we were outside, I closed the door and turned to face the doctor, waiting for him to speak.

"I regret to inform you, Miss Anderson, that this news is not easy to deliver. Ronan's brain scans have revealed no brain activity... I am sorry but he is dead," the doctor stated. My heart seemed to pause for a moment, the room suddenly feeling vast. Everything felt unreal. This couldn't be happening. Stepping back into the room, I observed Evie sleeping serenely and Ronan... oh, Ronan... tears streamed down my face.

"Please, this can't be real... Please don't take him away from us... I'm willing to do whatever it takes," I choked out through sobs, pleading with any higher power for assistance. Suddenly, it felt as though the world was crashing around me, the lights growing blindingly bright. Before I could comprehend what had just happened, I heard a deep voice, filled with an unnatural tone.

"Anything?" the mysterious voice dared. "I hope you're aware of the consequences that come with saying 'anything,' Cass..."

"Cassia?" I heard someone call my name, and my vision refocused. I found myself in a crowded room, dressed in a white bralette underneath a sheer, floral blouse, along with a pink mini skirt. I was barefoot, my long wavy hair flowing messily down my back. My head throbbed, and I held a glass cup containing a drink of some sort. The background was filled with loud music. I turned towards the voice that called my name, and standing before me was... Ronan... My grip on the glass weakened, and it shattered as it slipped from my hand with a CRASH.