Renegade Revival

Chapter 6: In the Shadows

Taylor's POV

I walked to the brick wall Hayley and I used to smoke by on the twentieth. There was a figure in the night, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette, as well. I sat away from the figure as I lit my cigarette, studying the shadow.

"Why didn't you say anything?" the figure asked, its voice being familiar. It was Hayley's. I blinked at her, confused.

"What do you mean?" I asked before taking a draw. "What are you talking about?"

"Coffee shop? You saw me. You knew it was me," she snarled. She stepped closer to me, her face finally visible in the moonlight. Her hazel eyes were red and puffy; her mascara and eyeliner were mixed with her tears as they fell down her flushing cheeks.

"Hayley, that wasn't you," I said, guilt forming in my chest at the sight of her being so upset.

"You know what, Taylor?" she growled. "Go to hell!"

"It wasn't you!" I said more sternly. Hayley glared at me as she took a draw of her cigarette. She blew a cloud away from us, studying me as she crossed her arms.

"Then who was it?" she asked after a moment, her words soaked in acid.

"I don't know," I said plainly. Hayley gave a sarcastic chuckle as she went for another draw, but stopped.

"I guess I'm dead to you, huh?" she spat. I heaved a sigh.

"That's the thing, Hayley," I said. "You are dead."

"No, I'm not, Taylor."

"You are. Hell, you're not even Hayley!"

"Then, who the hell am I!" she yelled. "Huh?! Tell me, who else would be smoking a goddamn cigarette only on the twentieth?! Who else is wearing the same shit I wear?! If I'm not Hayley, who else is doing this to you?!" Before I could react, Hayley threw her cigarette down and pulled me into a kiss.

     I jolted up with a gasp, realizing I wasn't outside at all. I was in my bed. It was all a dream; a strange dream. I heaved a sigh as I ran my hand through my hair. I looked over at my phone, finding it to be three in the morning. I grabbed a hoodie, my phone, house keys, and a pack of cigarettes as I slipped on some shoes and left the house, deciding to visit that brick wall that was in my dream.

      Just like the dream, there was a silhouette leaning against the wall, smoking. I brushed off the idea of Hayley, trying to shake of the image that had woke me up. I lit my cigarette and took a draw, studying the figure just as I did in my dream. It said nothing to me. So, I watched its movements. The figure adjusted its hood and seemed to wipe its face with a sleeve or the heel of its hand as it smoked.

"Hey," I forced myself to say, trying to be friendly to the stranger. The figure looked over at me, then quickly fixed its focus to its shoes; the figure waved as it blew a cloud of smoke. Maybe it wasn't much of a talker, like me. After a while, the figure pressed its cigarette on the wall, the same way Hayley used to, and walked away as it focused on its feet, taking the same route Hayley did. At that moment, I wished the figure was Hayley. That way, I would have walked with her as we continued our deeply sought out conversations, just like we once did.