"𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞."
Lou Johnston and Eddy "Boone" Higgins, two former best friends whose paths diverged after high school. Now, years later, they find themselves inexplicably draw...
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The sky was a bruised shade of purple, churning like an ocean in a storm. I stood alone in the middle of a vast, empty plain, my feet sinking into the mud with every step. The air was thick with electricity, and I could feel it humming just beneath my skin, the way it always did before a storm hit. I knew I should run, but my legs felt heavy, like they were weighed down by concrete.
I turned my head, searching for Boone. He was out here somewhere-I could feel it in my bones. The thought of him being alone in this storm, vulnerable to whatever hell was about to be unleashed, twisted my stomach into knots. I had to find him. I had to get to him before it was too late.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, low and menacing, like the growl of some wild beast lurking just out of sight. The clouds overhead twisted into a funnel, dark and menacing, and I could see it starting to form, spiraling down from the heavens. The tornado was massive, a monstrous force of nature that didn't care about anything in its path. It was coming for him.
"Boone!" I screamed, but my voice was swallowed by the wind, lost in the roar of the storm.
Suddenly, I saw him. He was standing on the horizon, his back to me, completely unaware of the terror bearing down on him. His usual confident stance was gone, replaced by a slumped, defeated posture that I had never seen before. He was close-so damn close-but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't reach him.
The tornado touched down with a deafening roar, and everything slowed to a crawl. The wind ripped at my clothes, pulling me backward as I fought to push forward, my heart pounding in my chest. I could see debris flying through the air-pieces of homes, trees, cars-all being sucked into the vortex, but all I could think about was getting to him.
"Boone, move!" I yelled, my voice breaking, but he didn't respond. He just stood there, staring at the ground as if he'd already accepted his fate.
The storm was on him in seconds. I watched in horror as the tornado lifted him off his feet, his body twisting and turning like a ragdoll in the wind. His eyes met mine for a brief moment, and I saw something there that I never wanted to see again-fear. Not for himself, but for me.
Then he was gone, swallowed by the storm, and the sky turned black. I screamed, my lungs burning with the effort, but it was no use. He was gone, and there was nothing I could do to save him.
I jolted awake, gasping for breath, the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. The room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the clock on the bedside table. It was just past 3 a.m., but sleep was the last thing on my mind.
