How to escape your imagination

Chapter 4

It all happens so quickly. People start to leave, and before I know it, me, Simon, Bram, and Matthew are the only ones left at the party. I can't help but notice that every time I glance over at Matthew, he seems to quickly look away from me.

"So uh, interesting game choice," Bram says out loud. Everyone laughs nervously and

Matthew nods. "Yeah, who likes everything to be traditional?"

I smile. "I agree 100%, that was a pretty fun game choice."

The game didn't go on for much longer after the first couple of girls got their hearts broken by the boys they had had crushes on since the first grade. I notice Simon glancing in my direction and I smile, he half-smiles back and looks at his shoes. I have to admit, I can't ignore the pang of guilt that has built up inside of me since I made the selfish decision to do what I had wanted to do for years.

"Well, I think we should get back home now,"
Bram says after moments of silence.

Simon nods, plastering a fake smile across his face. I look around the large house one last time and wave goodbye to Matthew.

"See you soon Jonathan!" He says with a friendly smile.
"I hope," I hear him whisper under his breath.

I walk out the door after Simon and the door slowly closes behind me. I feel as though my heart has been ripped out. What if Matthew doesn't even remember any of this? I push down my hesitant feelings and walk down the narrow cobblestone path illuminated by small fairy lights.

"Do you need a ride?"

I snap out of my daze and glance up to see Simon looking at me. I nod with a small smile, and Simon turns around and walks towards his car without another word. Shaking my head slightly I follow, hoping that I see Matthew again.

The light coming off of the streetlamps flashes by almost like they do in dreams. I stare quietly out the window at the so-called "Fake world" I'm living in right now. The plants, the houses, the people even, all seem to be holding their breath as though waiting for something to happen. Luckily, I feel exactly the same way.

Simon and Bram are whispering in the front seat. I can't hear what they are saying but I know that it's about me. The car finally pulls up to Bram's house and he quickly gets out. I open the door to get out and hop into the front seat. The door barely closes before Simon speeds away from the sidewalk.

"Hey, Simon?"

Simon looks over at me.

"Are you mad?"

Simon looks back at the street in front of him.

"No." He says in almost a whisper.

The car stops abruptly at a red light, throwing me forward slightly.

"I'm just..." Simon pauses to find the next word. "Confused."

Simon smiles down at his lap. "These past couple of months have been so hard, with people asking questions and stuff."

He looks back at me with damp eyes. "It makes me feel like, I'm broken...you know?"

Yes. I knew exactly what he was talking about. And so, I nod.

"I just wish I hadn't told anybody, but I was just eager to escape the mess Martin put me in."

Now I was wishing that I had seen the movie because I had no clue what he was talking about. But still, I nod. After what seems like centuries, the red light turns green, and the cars pile forward.

"I know how you feel, Simon," I say finally.

"No, you don't." He says bit bit harshly.

I look out the window once more and the cars zooming by.

"That's fair, I guess."

Simon lets out a big puff of air and looks at his hands.

"I have to be honest, Jonathan, you can sit here and have this deep conversation with me but if you know how I feel, then why did you choose him?"

There it was. The question of the century. Why did I make the decision that I made? Simon looks at me eyebrows raised, and when I don't answer, he simply turns away.

"Simon there's something I need to tell you."

Simon shakes his head, turning to glare at me.

"What, Jonathan? What is so important that--"

Simon stops abruptly and stares in utter shock as two headlights soar towards us. The car makes contact, and then everything is black.

I open my eyes to see white...everywhere. What happened? Did I die? No...that can't be it. I blink my eyes slowly trying to clear the white that was blocking my sight.

"It's no use, Jonathan." The voice is back.

"What do you want?!" I yell, not concerned what others may think because nobody else is here.

"I want you to succeed Jonathan, but I can't do that when you're going around dying and stuff."

My eyes widen in shock. "What do you mean DYING?"

The voice laughs, as though enjoying my personal state of confusion. "You died Jonathan, and I can't just give you a second chance, I mean I don't give anyone second chances!"

I pull at my hair in frustration. "I CAN'T JUST--"

"Shhhhh, calm down." The voice cuts off my rage fest. "There is something that you don't realize."

"Enlighten me, whoever you are."

I can't see where the voice is coming from, but I can tell that it's smirking by the awkward silence that followed my sarcastic remark.

"You have two lives left." Is all the voice says before ground rushes towards my face for the second time.

"Why does this keep happening to me?!" I scream, my voice muffled my grass. I look up and see a gun pointed at my head. The face holding it is blocked by the reflection of the sun.

"Where did you come from?" A gruff voice says.

"Francis? Where are you?" The voice of a young female becomes more and more audible as she steps closer to us.

"Where have you--um, who's this?" She says in confusion. The man I'm guessing is Francis speaks once more.

"This guy was following us."

"What? No, I wasn't!" I protest.

The girl laughs and comes closer into view to let me get a good look at her face. Brown hair, brown eyes, pointed face, I know this girl. But I can't quite place her...

"He's just a kid, Francis." She sighs.

I nod planting my face into the ground when my neck becomes stiff. I hear him grunt in frustration, but also the click of the gun being put back into his holster.

"This is why I love you, Martha, you're so kind. But you can't let everyone get away with following us!"

They head down the sidewalk, leaving me laying down on the grass.

"Wait!" I yell hopping to my feet. They turn around, eyebrows raised in sync almost as though their minds are connected.

"Yes?" The girl called Martha says.

I pause trying to talk myself out of my decision to ask for help, but I can't. 

"I need your help."