I sat on my bed, dressed in my pajamas with a bowl of chips sitting in my lap as I munched on them. In front of me, Myron sat on a bean bag in a pair of sweatpants and a wife beater. It was quite late at night, almost eleven o'clock.
"So..." I trailed off, trying to create some kind of conversation. "Are we going to talk about it?"
"Yeah," he said. "We probably should."
"Okay," I replied.
Myron shuffled in his seat slightly, "you start with what happened."
"Well," I placed the now empty bowl on the bed and began repeating the events of earlier to Myron. I explained everything, about the golden dust, the story, the monsters, the man, his words. I even explained all the connections I had made, the creature being that man who was giving us all those notes and knew the monsters and had Allie.
When I finished, I waited for Myron to reply – to say anything. But he didn't. He stayed quiet. I looked at him anxiously but he stared down at the ground between his legs, running a hand through his dark hair.
"Are you – are you not going to say anything?" I asked him.
Myron sighed, "I don't know what to say."
"Oh," was my reply to that. I looked down. I didn't understand why Myron wasn't saying anything. Sure, he could have been processing everything I had just told him but it wasn't that much to hear – if anyone I should have been the one to be silent as I was the one who had gone through it and experienced it first-hand.
"Did he say anything else?" Myron asked. I thought for a second.
Was I forgetting something? I knew I was. There was that infamous feeling when you knew there was something – something that I was forgetting. Something important. And it was sending me crazy. I couldn't remember it, no matter how hard I tried.
Then it struck me like lightning.
How could I be so stupid?
"Evan Willows!" I suddenly cried out, catching Myron by surprise.
"What?" he asked, clearly not understanding what I was saying.
"He said, his name was Evan Willows," I explained to him.
"That's the same as Macy," Myron said and I narrowed my eyes in confusion.
"No it's not, her name is Macy Wi—," I paused. "Willows.
"See," Myron said. I scowled at him, grabbing a pillow from behind me and throwing it across at him. He caught the pillow with ease and chucked it back at me. My slow reflexes prevented me from catching it, like Myron, or even moving out the way so it smacked me right in the face. I picked it up but something caught my eye. I gripped the pillow with my left hand while my right hand reached into the pillow case and pulled it out. The piece of paper.
I looked up at Myron, "it's another note."
"Read it," he said. I looked back down at the note and carefully unfolded it, holding it in front of me to read.
Hello again my lovelies. Did you enjoy the show last night? I think you did. Well let's forget that now, yeah? Times running out my lovelies. They're getting impatient. You're little Allie is in grave danger. Hurry up.
Now go. Go to the opposite of a good girl because here, anything is everything but good.
I finished reading the note, cold shivers running down my spine. I quickly passed it to Myron as I couldn't bear to hold it any longer. It was vile, contaminating my hands. I couldn't bear it.
