Two Paths | A Sequel (coming soon)

Prologue - "Twelve Months"

"I'm happy to be your friend, Aiden." The male ahead of me responded.

I have lived this moment for the thousandth time now- a featuring form of a sheepish, golden smile spread by the genuine gesture. I could not decide if the beaming colour of his eyes was emerald or amber, but the exquisite blond of his fluffy hair was the thing that I recalled very easily. Like the strands of his hair was the permanent mark of this person, and how his height had been noticeably taller than myself.

It seemed as if simultaneous sparkles beamed within the arcade section- the vivid rhythm of springlocks clacked against in the back of my hearing, younger children would rehearse by the imprudent song, but it did not surpass any meaning. I heard this frightening sound of thundering grimace by the windowsill, the natural pastel of landscaping clouds had been mercilessly disposed by the darkest blues. The crowding chaos would descend, and everything became monotonously dull. The cheering and applauds subsided from deathly silence.

The boy's skin paled from a vivid tone, the smile that gifted me warmth and security was gone, and he was no longer someone that I knew. His clothing was teared, the skin of whitened texture was stung with a few concurrent scratches and cuts, his aura of calmness was solid cold. The features of his binding familiar face became briefly clearer to my view. My chest would sink when the profound realization struck. I could not speak, for the piercing stare would shatter my reasoning. He seemed vexed, carefully frowning with formality, he straightened his posture.

Before his mouth ever left any words that had the capability to destroy me, my words were exclaimed- strangely with calm and eccentric ease, but I could not be any more frightened.

"How are you alive?"

The gap by his lips would influence my chest to race, bumping heartbeats remained at the hearing of my ears. Before his response could be spoken, everything vanished within boundless fragments, and the dream was concluded, like a format that ended with a broken record.

My vision would be non-hesitant, instantly snapping open as my eyes were reluctantly greeted with a very boring ceiling fan. I had lived that moment for a lengthy amount of times- that now it surprised me rather greatly, how my heart always managed to race shamelessly. It seemed depressing, it's been longer than twelve months, and my dreams kept pondering about him.

I was not sure if remaining in the past was a positive outcome. I promised him, and myself, that I'd never erase him from my memories. But how can I cease myself from shattering the promise, if I ever do forget him? I can't even recall the specific tone of his voice, nor the various adventures in which we spent. It felt inevitable, like I would commit a deathly sin by forgetting. It felt disgraceful.

The people eventually moved forward, they couldn't afford to remain in the tragedy that surely afflicted me and our family. Neighbors and rare sympathetic persons would mourn for a few days, but I am the only one who is capable of remaining in the same repetitive pattern. I can't help but stroll by the beige- two-story residence, a few moments of painful expectation that he would, perhaps, reunite with me, just like before, when I had been happy. The truth would shatter me inevitably, but my mind seemed reluctant. I wouldn't accept their void words, their phrases that covered filthy lies.

Besides him, there's been fears that plausibly became stronger- unreasonable fears I myself cannot explain. My reality could be taken as delusional, but I am aware of the events that will surely unfold. Michael has been divergent nowadays, even though we were so close. Seth is rarely seen within our home; he is profound in his career with father's diner- resembling an obsession.

Nothing feels right, anymore.

I had been peering ahead, fixing my blue eyes at my palms, grasping my blankets, nearly tearing them with the evident strength of infinite thoughts. If it hadn't been for a printed calendar perpetuated by the wall forth to me, I would have forgotten about my birthday. Two weeks, the counter is on. I felt a slight smirk spread across my cheeks, nearly forgetting that it is three in the morning.

"It's on!" I exclaimed. The impact of an object banged against the wall- shudders spreading through my veins. "Go to sleep, you idiot!" I heard Michael, within the approximate room next to mine.

      I'll prove them wrong.