WHAT IF?

14.

MIA

He lied.

Fest does not require any membership. All my classmates are planning to waste themselves there that night.

But why?

Ethan was doing so well the entire evening, until he decided to shit on all of that. The way he paused and looked at me, as if to confirm the question he heard was right, the leaning back to his chair, deliberating his answer, the careful words and the obvious desperation to avoid the topic gave him away completely, or more like, blasted him off of a fucking giant catapult.

What was he scared of? He is a rich kid. He would definitely have an elaborate security detail on - call for him, twenty four - seven.

Is he scared about the fest? Or does he know something he shouldn't? Whatever it is, I can't possibly get any answer out of him anytime soon because I kind of spooked him now. He would be vigilant around me not to tread around it.

I quickly change and step in my comfortable clothes. A huge relief. I swear to hell, those heels were killing me for hours! My feet will surely be sore in the morning.

I carry the diary and plump down on my bed, flipping its pages to sift through it again, looking for something I might have missed, after a thousand times of reading it already.

Something about the change in Ethan's demeanor tells me that he is connected to the fest, at least in deeper levels, that is. I mean, he has to be. He is one of the hosting party. The small piece of information slipped off of him during our long,  awkward conversation as he tried to steer the train to a different track. Though I didn't take him for a person who would just slip. Anyway, there is no mention of him in the diary. I have heard there is a group of five members who host the fest evey year and they are permanent, like they won't be trading their place with anyone at anytime in the foreseeable future. Two of them, Nelly Johnson and Tim Christ have taken their seats in Nyssa's journal. Ethan's could the third,  but there are still two of them missing.

I huff out a long, tired sigh and toss the notebook aside on the bed-side table, stretch myself and lay on the bed, retiring for the day. I had been completely exhausted by scrutinizing each and every thing today. My outfit, Ethan's outfit, my words, his words, my actions, his actions, our hugs, my way of smiling, his smile, the restaurant, his car - everything. I tried to shut off my mind on that front but it is hard not to be wary of your surroundings. Out of everything, I thought his smile was forced for the most of the evening, but I can't be sure of that since I don't know what a real smile and genuine happiness looks like.

I tired to sleep but despite the heaviness sitting in my bones, I couldn't get myself to relax even for a bit. So I lay on my back and stare up at the ceiling.

I clutch my mother's clothes tighter as we scramble to the farthest corner of the room. My sobs and whimpers mixing with her harsh and terrified breaths as she brushes her hand on my face, removing the loose strands. The door finally busts open and many armed man in black army suits parade in and and swing their guns and rifles, checking the surroundings before a man in blue three piece suit walks in the room, taking in the walls and the furniture with disdain written all over his face. He was as scary as he dressed himself neatly, had a gnarly scar across his face running from his forehead, above his left eye and down to his chin in a diagonal line.

He smirked as he spotted us and sat down on the couch, unfolding his one arm over its edge while signaling us to come forward by his other. Mother shook her head vehemently and pushed further into the wall, moving me behind her in a protective hold. The coldness of the wall bit into my sensitive skin, heightened by the loud thumping of my heart. I shifted on my feet to avoid much contact from the wall but her force outgrew mine. It should have been comforting, expect, it only felt more frightening. 

The scary man looked away and the nearest guard yanked us from our place and threw us at of his feet. A loud sob left my body as the guard kicked me hard in my stomach and I doubled over, nausea taking over my senses. I suddenly heard a soft rustle of  clothes and froze. The scary man had changed his position and was leaning over me. I first couldn't  look at him, out of horror, but then slowly forced myself to move my head up and our eyes locked. Mine radiated utter panic while his shown...Fascination?

What?

My expression morphed into confusion while he only stared at me with some sort of glint in his eyes that visibly made me uncomfortable. His hand stretched out and slowly hovered above my face. My gaze constantly  observing his movements until he tried to touch it and I flinched, out of instinct. His eyes shown brighter, bringing his hand close to his lips and slowly rubbing his lower lip with his thumb and -

I jolted up on my bed, my breath heavy. My lungs felt on fire and the room felt so small. The walls starting to close in on me and I can't breathe. I wasn't claustrophobic, but I just can't get enough oxygen to take in and extinguish the burn inside me. My entire body is covered in cold sweat, my hair damp, my hands trembling lightly. My comfortable PJs do not feel so comfortable now as they stick to my legs, binding them to move even an inch. My comforter bundled up around my feet, exposing my body to the freezing wind. A whimper escapes me before I could stop it as a gush of air swept in my room through the open window. I place my hand above my racing heart and take deep breaths, trying to calm down as much as possible. 

Wonderful.