"Do you ever think about what happens after you die?"
"It kinda scares me, Fox. I don't think about it too long."
"Yeah... me too. But what if there's nothing? Like, it's just blackness forever."
"I want it to be more like sleeping. You don't know you're asleep until you wake up."
"But then you never wake up."
"Then I guess... you wouldn't know you were sleeping. You'd just... stop being here."
"That's so lonely. I don't like it."
"Me neither, Fox. But maybe it's like going to the library. You read all these stories, and then, when it's time, you close the book, and you go home. Maybe that's better."
"I don't want to sleep forever, Jellybean. I don't. I want to keep seeing things and keep doing things and reading books. Like, who would I talk to if I was just... not here?"
"We can't talk anymore after. Or maybe you'd just talk to yourself, or the trees."
"You think trees can hear us?"
"Well, um, they're in the forest every night. Maybe they're just waiting for someone to go to sleep forever just to talk to them."
"Does that mean we're trees when we're dead? Like you and me in the woods when we're old. Maybe we could be there together."
"That would be cool."
"Okay, okay. Cross your heart?"
"Cross my heart, Fox."
ᖴO᙭
She's tracking. But she won't find me.
The smoky air in the shadowy hallway is thick, stinking of sweat, blood, and something sour. I walk its length, glooms bouncing against the walls from the single flickering bulb above.
"Freckles! What the fuck!"
Cam's voice carries down the hall in short, annoyed bursts. I don't answer. I pace, heels hitting in heavy thuds, faster than I should, knowing I'll need every bit of this energy when I'm in the cage.
Fuck that. I need to do something.
I reach the payphone, an ancient, rusted thing that's somehow still connected to the grid. I glance down, spotting a few abandoned coins in a wet streak on the concrete floor. I scoop them up, slip them into the phone, then dial directory.
The operator gives me a few seconds of background chatter and muffled voices before she says, "City, what listing please?"
"Whispering Pines Psychiatric Facility," I breathe out, rolling my shoulders.
"One moment."
A click sounds, and then I'm on hold, a warped elevator tune filtering through.
"Fox! You better not be backing out!"
After what feels like an eternity, a deep voice breaks the line. "This is Whispering Pines, how can I assist?"
"Gwenevere Wilder," I say, realizing how rough I sound. "I'm family. Am I able to get an update?"
YOU ARE READING
Beside
Romance''Tell me how it feels,'' he whispers. "Good," I gasp, my entire body trembling. Deeper. Harder. Perfect -- like we've been doing this for years. His hand finds my jaw, fingers firm as he tilts my head up, making me look at him. And that's it. Wav...
