AIM [FIRST DRAFT]

Epilogue: Aimee

I had to be easy. He tried to make it as obscure as he could, but I could feel him flinching in pain every time our mouths met. I knew that his face hurt, but I couldn't tear myself away. I love him and it felt amazing to say it.

I get butterflies when I see his face - purple or not. Everything about him is... I can't even put it into words. He isn't "perfect." He's only human. He's also the best part of all this. I know that he'll protect me and I hope he knows that I'll do the same, because none of this was over. Celeste, Abba, Benjamin, they were still out there, they'd still come after Aimee Whitaker. If only they knew that was not me. I was Aimee Griffiths - she's a lot smarter and prettier anyway, and she got to savour her time with Stefan Summers.

But that time expired when one of Buckley's drivers interrupted us and received me. He took me home. When we got there, he opened my car door and walked me to the porch. He resembled one of those butlers you'd see on television; he stood and moved primly and yet he wore Men in Black sunglasses to hide his eyes. He knocked on the door with only the bone of his index finger. I could hear running and shuffling for keys, and then the door swung open rapidly.

"Molly!" I cried joyfully.

She was at a loss for words. Her arms wrapped me warmly, until she noticed the man standing beside me. She slowly released herself from our hug.

"Who are you?" her voice was solid, as the man's presence alone brought her back to her old self.

He said nothing. He reached into his pocket and handed a letter over to her. I didn't care to see what it was; I was home. I rushed upstairs to look for Clifford while Molly continued to be her pleasant self. I snuck into their bedroom, where Cliff sat on Molly's side of the bed, facing away from me.

"Mr Griffiths," I tried to mask my voice, but he knew it was me.

He ran up and hugged me tight. He needn't say a word, but I had to seconds later: "Okay, I missed you too, Dad," I croaked, "but I can't breathe."

He apologised and let go. Giggling, I hugged him again properly and gave him a peck on the cheek. His cool tears dropped onto my neck a few times. I tried not to cry myself, but it was hard! So, the waterworks began. Cliff and Moll had been so worried about me. It made me happy, as weird as it was to think like that.

That evening, Molly cooked a massive dinner. There were spare ribs, roast chicken, healthy veggies, garlic rolls, and even cheesecake on the table! It all went down and didn't come up again...

After hours of chatter around the dining table, I said goodnight and went upstairs to freshen up.

I sat on my bed in my pyjamas, scanning through my iPhone: Gallery, click, and Photos, click. No one knew that I had a picture of that map. What frustrated me was that it was so encrypted; it had random numbers and letters in and along the edging. I'd have to stay up for an entire night to figure all of it out - and I'd splurge my airtime doing so. But I didn't wanna get back into that world. So, I just ignored it all, I liked the peace and quiet that was my home. Molly and Cliff were asleep, yet still I felt their loving presence. I pondered that even if the map put the real world in danger, Abba wanted me alive. I knew that much and I'd know beforehand what kind of twisted scheme she had planned.

My phone rang and I, being lost in thought, was startled into a jolt. But I bore a wide and honest smile on my face when I saw who it was.

Stefan Summers

He called to make sure I was safe. He said - no, he promised - to call every day from then on, that things could continue as they were. But I knew that was impossible.

"I wish they could," I mumbled hopelessly.

"They can," he said lightly. "My nurse says I should go to sleep. Talk again tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Aimee." And we exchanged 'I love you's.

It was only a thirty-second call, but I somehow felt like falling asleep then wouldn't kill me. I tucked my phone under my pillow, rested my head and stared at the ceiling. I was close to sleep, when the ground shook abruptly beneath me. I wasn't exactly afraid; here, earthquakes were common and rarely caused major damage. So, I shut my eyes, waiting for it to stop, but instead the vibrations shook me right out of bed - belly downward. I stood up flustered and climbed over my bed to scope the streets outside my window. The ground still moved below me, just me. It wasn't an earthquake at all. It was meant for me. It burrowed its way out from the soil under our already ruined rose bushes, busted through my window, and hauled me underground. 'It' was some bionic thing that resembled an immensely enlarged Doctor Octopus tentacle, with a bone-bending grip. And there on the tentacle's side I spotted that condescending, taunting logo: