(Spin-off of Imaginary, more so specifically it's second book, Severity)
Cleo Vexer, a problematic teenage girl, is the sensation of your average pessimist and mediocre criminal. Still having to survive the rest of her senior year bitter and lonely...
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Winsley constantly knocks on my door for five minutes straight, the clock striking past midnight late Thursday.
I open the door half asleep. "What is it this time of night, Winsley?"
"My mom kicked me out for the night, again." She explains. I finally take notice of her bulky backpack slagging her shoulders, a pillow and a sketch pad in the crook of her arm.
"Come in," I instantly open the door wider.
She tries to apologize for barging in at the last hour, but I brush it off as I unfold the couch into a pull-out bed, grabbing a blanket from the closet.
"Now spill," I demand firmly, sitting alongside her, waiting for a story.
"My mom and I fought for the millionth time," Winsley started, curling her arms around her pillow. "She was trying to convince me to transfer into a public school where I can 'focus on what's important.' I obviously refused one too many times and she said to not come back until after school tomorrow. She's starting to get sick of me." There was a pause. "Well, if she wasn't already."
My lips purse automatically. Winsley's relationship with her Mom - as similar as our two stories may seem - was different. Because I knew someday, Penelope Rile would learn to love her.
I sigh, my eyes fluttering closed frustratedly. "I don't understand parents and their absolute need to control our lives. It's absurd."
Winsley nodded in agreement. "I guess it's been running in our circle. We've got bad luck in the parent department." She leans her chin on her hand. "But I'm not going to cave in. If she wants me to go to public school, I'm going to try ten times harder to succeed in the arts."
I started to think selfishly. If Winsley could go to public school, that'd mean she'd most likely transfer to my school. I wouldn't feel so out of place there if just one person could stick.
No.
My mind receded the thought.
Don't let Winsley lose the future she wants because you're feeling selfish. She's in the same situation you were in not too long ago.
A sad smile covers the cloud of thoughts in my head as I reel in what she said. "Don't give up, Winsley. I'm sure you'll succeed and prove her wrong."
Because that's what you told yourself when you were in her shoes.
And look where you are now.
Determination crosses Winsley's face. "I'm going to prove her wrong, no matter the costs."
"You should get some sleep." I smiles softly, shifting my weight to stand up. "Everything will be better in the morning."
"I guess so," Winsley yawns. She quickly curls into the blanket, molding her head into her pillow. "Goodnight, Cleo."
"Night," I whisper as I make my way to my room, my bare feet sticking to the hallway floor.
I close my door when I enter the room. I flop on the bed ever so graciously; I soak into the mattress. I groan as I sink deeper, just about falling asleep.
My phone rings on the nightstand. At first, I'm too tired to bother.
But then it rings again, and again, and again.
I sit up with a huff and answer without checking the caller ID.
"What do you want!" I screech into the phone despite how tired I felt.
"Cleo," Caslon's voice shakes on the other end of the line. I suddenly soften, hearing the vulnerability in his voice.
"What's wrong?" I immediately sit up, resting my elbows on my knees perched off the side of the bed.
"It's Riley," His voice barely audible through the phone. "She's missing."
