"Kyle?"
"Hey, Teen Help at your service. What can I help you with? Do you need emergency help? If so, please dial the police. If not, we are here at your service to help you today," the voice chirps, an over-hyper voice. I can picture the person who owns that voice, bouncing around like the floor was on fire.
And being happy about it too.
It's another voice on the phone that I don't remember at all.
This isn't Kyle.
"Who are you?" I groan. Her chirpiness is driving me mad, proving that she's exactly my polar opposite.
"Sarah. Kyle is away. He'll be back next week."
He didn't tell me?
"Oh okay. Okay Sarah."
I hang up.
YOU ARE READING
melancholia ✔︎
Short Storyall i need is a reason to live. a reason to keep living in this hell you call life. because melancholia is just too hard to control all alone.
