Basically, I followed Jackson’s advice and introduced myself to the majority of the town. A few mentioned that their association didn’t have a name yet, and they hoped that I would be the one to name them. I nodded and said, “No problem, I can handle it!” but how would I even get the idea? It’s hard enough for me to understand what’s going on, why I’m here, and what everyone expects out of me. Our conversations always went something like:
“Hey, I’m Alex; what’s your name?”
The escapee would respond with his or her name, and excitedly ask me for a favor, some words of wisdom, if I recognized how much he or she loves me, whatever. My responses varied between:
“You can count on me!”
“Just try your hardest; we’re going to make it.”
“You’re not half-bad yourself! Ha, just kidding, you’re a great kid.”
Repeat.
After three people a group, names went in my ear and completely out the other. On the bright side, most people just wanted to meet me and say hi, instead of me memorizing who each and every one of them were. That may have been a bonus, but not exactly a priority. Hours must have gone by before the line started to die down. Then, almost ironically, there was a face I knew for sure. It wasn’t a feeling of “I’m 90% sure this is her,” I was 100% absolutely positive that this was the face I could never forget.
“Cassandra, what are you doing here?”
Surprise caressed her face like velvet, but no soft spots formed on me. The wind brushed up against her hair like a purring cat, but there was no affection. Sunlight made her eyes shine like polished chrome, but my feelings were dulled. Unlike all the other times I saw her, butterflies decided not to make a tornado whirl throughout me.
She shook her head as her mouth slowly opened. “How did… did someone already tell you my name?”
I was slightly disappointed that she didn’t recognize me, but I guess I barely identified myself when I first woke up – or whatever happened to me.
“It’s Alex Van Why,” I told her.
My voice dripped with mystery; the volume of it low and raspy. There was a worried voice in my head that reminded me that she’d never forgive me for this.
“No you’re not… he died five years ago!” she recalled with a quavering tone.
I ignored the voice in my head.
“Did you ever end up with Reese?”
“Who are you?” she yelled, wild animal eyes scanning me over.
With all the shouting, Jeremy decided to stalk over and ask what was going on. Cassandra, already knowing and trusting him, calmed down a little and reported to him the situation at hand.
“Who is this person?”
“Him?” he asked, jabbing a thumb in my shoulder. “He’s Alex, and he already told people to call him that.”
“No, who is he really?” she demanded.
Jeremy blinked and looked at me from the corner of his eye.
“Still Alex… Alex Van Why, I think.
By now, I was becoming desperate. It was a funny joke at first, but I expected her to remember by now. I may not be in love with her any more, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want my best friend back.
“Alex is dead,” she whispered.
“We’re all dead. Carter, Jackson, Austin, Alex, me; all of us are dead.”
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Mess
Mystery / Thriller"Why are his eyes so blue?" "Because he's an angel." "Hm, that's an interesting way of putting it..." "No, I'm 99% sure he's an angel." Alex was just a fourteen year old boy who constantly got bullied. He was in love with his best friend, but sh...
