Shifted [z.m au]

XVII. Crazy.

▪ cra·zy

noun:
/ ˈkrāzē /

mentally deranged, especially as manifested in a wild or aggressive way.

-

"Zayn!" I didn't even know I was shrieking his name. I leaned over the side, peered down, down, down, into the darkness.

"Zayn!" I shouted in fear. The well was so dark, so deep.

I couldn't see him. But I could hear his frantic splashes, hear his short, gasping cries of horror.

I could picture his arms and legs, thrashing wildly, slapping at the water. I could picture his face twisted in horror, arched back out of the water. Sucking in breath after breath.

The water must be so cold, so dirty. I could picture his hands reaching up, desperately grabbing at the wet stones of the wall. Slipping off. Slipping off again.

"Zayn, are you okay?" I could hear the wild thrashing, the echoing splashes. His desperate, hopeless attempts to stay afloat

"Help me! Rena!"

His voice floated up, ringing as if in a vast cavern. He sounded so far away. Miles and miles away. He called up only once.

"Zayn-I'm here! Zayn-keep swimming! Zayn-don't give up." Leaning over the side, staring into the deep darkness, I shouted down to him. But he didn't call up again.

And the splashing sounds stopped a few seconds later.

And I stared down, feeling the coldness of the stones on my waist, leaned farther down, listening to the deep silence, listening to his drown. Drown in my body. My boyfriend. He drowned at the bottom of the old well in my body.

I let out a sob as strong hands grabbed my shoulders. Harry pulled me up, away from the well. "Harry-he-he" I stammered.

He held me gently. Pulled me close. "I know." he whispered to my ear, his hot breath shivered through my body. "Rena, I know."

"I couldn't help him." I choked out, my entire body starting to shake. "I couldn't save him, Harry. I couldn't do anything for him. Nothing at all."

"I know." he repeated tenderly. "I know."

He held me tightly and guided me toward the house. We were halfway across the yard when Zayn suddenly stepped out from behind a tall evergreen shrub.

His hair-my hair-fell, wet and tangled with mud and leaves, to his shoulders. His clothes were soaked, his white tennis shorts stained with mud.

My mouth dropped open. I tried to call him name, but no sound came out.

I felt my knees buckle, my legs go weak, felt myself start to slip to the ground. But Harry held me up, held on to me tightly, as if holding himself up, too.

Walking slowly and deliberately, Zayn stepped in front of us. He pushed the wet, matted hair off his face with both hands.

He had the strangest smile on his pale lips. A pleased smile. A triumphant smile.

"Zayn-!" I finally managed to choke out. "Zayn-how did you get out?"

I wanted to run to him, to throw my arms around him, to hug him and cry for joy. But his cold smile held me back.

"You-you're out! You're here!" I cried.

His black eyes locked on mine. He didn't utter a sound.

My body is okay, I found myself thinking.

A shameful thought, I know. I should have been thinking only of my boyfriend. But staring at him-at his in my body-I couldn't help myself.

I couldn't help it. I found myself thinking: There's still a chance Zayn and I can shift back. Still a chance I can get my own body back from him.

I felt Harry's hand slide off my shoulder as Zayn dived forward.

Harry uttered a loud curse of surprise as Zayn grabbed his head in both hands.

"Let's shifted, Harry." Zayn said, his voice watery and strained. "Let's shifted-okay?"

Harry tried to pull back. But Zayn proved too strong for him.

Gripping both sides of his head, he gave it a hard twist-and wrenched the head off his shoulders with one strong tug.

***

a.n
next chapter will be the LAST chapter for 'Shifted' book.
so be prepare 😏😏😏😏
idk if i should make a sequel lol but hey let me think about it okay? would u mind if i make a sequel or not?