Honey Lips

{twenty-four}

"Whatever it takes
'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins
I do whatever it takes
'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains
Whatever it takes"

     I tried to focus in class, I really did, but all thoughts were interrupted by that crumpled photo in my pocket. It was taunting me, urging me to reach for it and read it all once again.

It became so bad my knee started bouncing and my fingers tapped on the desktop. I forced myself not to bite my nails, so I resulted in bawling my hands to fists. A sudden cold sweat makes me breathe more heavily and uneven. I swallow and close my eyes in attempt to calm myself. Yet every time I close my eyes, I feel like the stalker will somehow loom over me.

     I jump as a gentle hand touches my shoulder. My breathing exercise falters, and I sigh in irritation. My eyes glance from the hand to its owner. "Stephan?"

     Stephan gives a meek smile. He takes the vacant seat next to me and scoots his chair closer to me. He leans in, and on cue, I do the same.

     "What is it?" I ask, intervening the mental war that turmoils his mind.

     Stephan opens his mouth but closes it soon after. He reminds me of a fish out of water, and I have to suppress a laugh at the thought.

     "Stephan?" I repeat.

     Stephan's jaw clenched. "How's your brother?" He asks, rushed with his words.

     My eyes widen and my posture suddenly straightens. "What?"

     "That brother of yours," his eyes drift away from mine and focus on the empty seat of Daniel in our science class. AP Science was the only class I shared with my dear brother. The only reason juniors and seniors are in the class together, I'm assuming, is the AP part of it. Whatever that means. "How is he? I haven't seen him in a while."

     "A month to be exact," I snap. Stephan's eyes widen as he digests my words. "I haven't seen him in a month."

     "Wait, what the fuck! What do you mean? He just up and left?" Stephan yanks his phone from his jeans pocket and behind dialing a number.

     "What are you doing?" I ask as he holds the device up to his ear.

     "Filing a missing persons report that you should have made a fucking month ago. What's wrong with you?"

     I grab Stephan's phone from his hand and end the call he's so generously made. "What's wrong with me? Seriously? You think I haven't been worried about him?"

     "Obviously not if you're stupid enough not to make a fucking call!"

     "No!" I whisper-yell to him. I can already feel the blood rushing to my face as I become madder than a bull with a red flag. I'm the bull, and Stephan is waving a red flag like it's a trophy. "Stop it! I have been worried about him for the past month! Daniel texted me saying he needs time, so that's what I'm giving him. If something were wrong he would text me, so back the fuck up!"

     Stephan's mouth is left agape as he studies me with an unknown expression. My posture sags and I lower my body deeper into the plastic chairs. "Why do you care anyways?"

     Expecting an answer, I turn my head towards him. Stephan's cheeks flush with life as he stares at his dirty vans. His eyes glance back up to me, those deep green orbs full of darkness. "Just text me if anything happens?"

     "Of-" and before I can finish, Stephan rose from his seat and bolted out the door. "Course."

     The cold water awakens me from my foggy mind. Turning the blue knob so the water ceases to run, I look back at my reflection in the school bathroom. The edges of the mirror have been carved with vulgar words and shapes. Slightly cracked and dirty from age. My index finger taps against the porcelain sink; one, two, three, four, five.

     The scene frozen in the form of a picture makes my hand move directly to its pocket. All day I've been tormented by this little piece of paper. It doesn't just startle me, it makes the red hot alarms blare in my head. I curse myself for not being more smart and check my damn surroundings. I don't know this town like the back of my hand, and this person does.

     Maybe they're watching me right now?

     Turning on the tap, I splash cold water onto my feverish face again. As if somehow the water would wash away all my worries and make everything seemingly better. Yet when I look in the mirror, all I see is a frightened girl with streaks of black mascara running down her cheeks.

     I quickly wipe away the stains with a paper towel and exit the bathroom. Just in time for passing period. As always, the hallways are buzzing with life, a lot more than usual though. The students that were five feet behind me, were now five feet ahead of me. They seemed to be running to the same direction I am. A crowd begins to take form around a set of lockers—my locker included. Just as I was about to roll my eyes and walk to my last class, the realization dawns me. Turning on my heel, I push through the mob of people only to come face to door with my locker. My locker is not the usual royal blue paint with chips and lewd words, no, it's far from it. A red like substance drips down the locker door. The floor directly below it is stained as well. Rather than the cream colored tiles, a large pool of red dilates closer to the shoes of bystanders. I look back up to my locker and notice the numbered smudge of red.

3/26/17

A dark screen-like veil mentally dances across my vision, where do I know this date from? What happened in March . . . what happened in March?

March 26, 2017 . . . my eyes widen as I finally grasp the puzzle piece before me. No one knows this date besides my family. No one. But now, someone does. That is the date my mother committed suicide. That is the day that ruined my life.

I begin to sway on my feet. The carousel of recollection making me become so dizzy and groggy. This is too much, this is all too much. I'm attempt to steady myself I grab ahold of the first thing my fingers brush—my red locker. The liquid squelches in between my fingers, but was not enough to keep me up. The slippery locker provided me no aid as I land on the floor of the hallway, face first into the red pool. Before I fall into a deep sleep of unknown, I'm able to pick up a vile taste on my tongue. Metallic and tart. Then the whole world grows dark.

♪ — Whatever It Takes by Imagine Dragons