Invisible (Dylan O'Brien Fanfic)

Chapter 7: Time

"Ugh, can you please slow down. If you haven't noticed, I have short legs," I sighed, following Dylan's stride among the streets past the school building.

"Believe me, I noticed."

I shot him a glare I knew he wouldn't see. He didn't slow down the slightest bit.

I heard a hum resonate from his lips. He stopped dead in his tracks, causing me to slam into his back.

"Ow," I whined. "What is the matter with you?"

He ignores me, continues to observe our surroundings, then scratches his head.

"Something doesn't seem right," he furrows his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

Dylan's gaze lands on mine. The look in his eyes worried me. He swiftly turns and continues to walk the way he was before. Not even thinking twice, I hurry and try to keep up with him.

We turn a corner of an all too familiar place, memories flooding back.

"So, out alone are we?" His voice was deep and raspy, his breath reeked of alcohol.

I obviously couldn't say anything so instead, I tried prying him off me.

Being unsuccessful at this attempt, he took his other hand and grabbed my wrist, tightening it as much as he possibly could.

Tears were streaming down my face, my vision becoming blurry.

This all seemed so surreal, I was totally and utterly horrified.

So, I did the only thing I could think of. I drew my knee up and kneed him in the groin as hard as I could.

Surprisingly, he freed me. He fell to his knees and grabbed his man hood.

I quickly stood on my feet and tried running away, only to be face to face with the concrete once again.

He'd grabbed onto my ankle, and pulled me towards him.

My stomach was against the ground, as I felt him sit on me to keep me from moving.

I heard a click.

Wondering as to what it was, I almost instantly found out.

The cold metal was against the side off my back, I could already feel the blade digging into me.

It was a pocket knife.

I tried so hard to free myself from underneath him without getting rammed with the knife.

"Please don't, stop!"

It seemed as if those three words didn't do me any good.

I heard a raspy, creepy laugh escape his lips.

Then, I felt it. The cold metal was stabbed into my side.

"Ella!" Dylan's voice startled me out of my thoughts. "You have to pay attention and focus. Do you remember by any chance what time it was when it happened?" He crossed his arms, his whole body facing me.

"Sorry, but while being attacked I didn't think to take my phone out and check the time."

He sighed, "We don't have time for your smart-ass comments. Do you know roughly what time it might have been?"

I looked down, "Well, I left the school around 2:50, I was walking for about an hour, walked into the alley about 10 minutes later, so it would've been around 4:00. Which sounds right, but doesn't feel right. It was a lot darker out than it would've been if it were 4:00."

He didn't respond.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I huffed.

"Doing what?" He says bluntly.

"You rarely respond to me. You were completely sympathetic back at your house, and now you seem...cold."

He takes a step closer to me, "Listen, it's just what I do. I'm determined on helping you. We don't have time for this." He turns on his heels, walking out of the alley way.

I catch up to him, "You keep mentioning time. Why do you keep saying we don't have any?"

He abruptly stops, turns, and looks at me. With one swift motion he grabs my wrist, and quickly drags me down the block.
We turn, in front of us is an overview of a whole cemetery.

I'm trying to catch my breath, and Dylan slowly releases my wrist.

He lets out a quiet sigh, "You know that when a living being dies, the body starts to rot, specifically decay."

"Yeah..." I nod.

"Over time, the body will decompose, leaving behind nothing but bone. Pretty much nothing is left. Everything gone. To the human eye, it all disappears," his eyes scan the cemetery. "Ella, you are dead, but not completely. After an amount of time, you'll start to disappear, no trace of you will be left. And you'll be trapped forever in this hell. There won't be anyway out. You'll end up like me. We need to find your body before it's too late."

•••

Soft cushions nestled my body, along with Dylan's scent surrounding the air. My head was rested against his pillows, squishing one side of my face.
He sat at the end of the bed, his fingers punching in the keys of his laptop. My eyes wandered around the bedroom. Walls were plain white.

"I can't find any trace of him," he rasped.

"Hm?"

"The bastard, there's no trace of his name anywhere that I can find. I'm assuming he changed it years ago." He shuts his laptop shut.

"So, what's our next option then?" I lifted my head.

He starts to zip his sweater off, "I'm not sure yet, but for right now, sleep."

I look over at his alarm clock, 12:57 am.

He grabs pajama pants from his dresser and starts to leave the room.

"Wait, where're you going?" I ask confused.

"I'll take the couch downstairs so you can have the bed," he states.

Fear hits me, "I don't mind if you sleep here. I'm honestly a little scared to be alone."

The look on Dylan's face doesn't change. He walks to the side of the bed and pulls the covers over and slides in the bed.

His back turned to me the whole night, not another word was said.