How to escape your imagination

Chapter 5

"So what you're telling me...is that this is all a movie, and I'm fake?"

Francis says holding back a laugh.

I nod.

"When you say it like that...it sounds weird."

Martha grins. "Have you been drinking recently?"

I shake my head with annoyance.

"I honestly don't care if you guys believe me or not, but if you don't help me survive this movie , you'll probably did here!"

Francis stops and stares at me with a blank expression on his face.  "Kid, I'm a bit too busy to be entertained by your high fantasies, so I'm going to have to pretend that I didn't see you here, so I don't regret not killing you."

Francis turns on his heel, and Martha follows, close behind.

"Wait I know the name of this movie is!".

Francis stops once more and looks over his shoulder.  "Don't make me shoot you kid."

I put my hands up in defense and slowly get to my feet, brushing at the grass stains on my jeans.  "This is Mr. Right isn't it."

Francis wipes his face with his hand and looks at Martha who shrugs.  Francis looks back at me.  "I wouldn't know, I didn't know I was in movie until about five minutes ago, so I'm as lost as you."

I feel myself smile, and I look between Martha and Francis.  "So you believe me then?"

Martha laughs.  "Maybe a little, but if your actually high," She begins.

"Then your going to go bye bye." Francis finishes with a goofy grin. 

I nod, accepting the personality of the people I wanted help from, but they were the main characters.  They were my best chance of getting out of here. 

"I understand." I say with uncertainty.  

Francis gestures for me to stand up and I follow them back to his small apartment block. 

"So give me the low-down of your 'movie situation'."

Francis asks, settling down in an old armchair.

"Well, it's a long story."

Francis puts his scarred face in his hands.  "Kid, I don't have all the time in the world, but I swear if you dragged my ass all the way over here to tell me that your story is too long to tell, I'll make your death slow and painful."

I put my hands up in defense and prop myself on the edge of my couch.

"So, I started at Love, Simon--"

"What's that?" Martha cuts me off mid sentence.

"It's a movie, gimme a break I'm trying to get through this story."

Martha nods.

"Anyway, I got stuck in this stupid movie world thing, and now I'm on movie number two."

I begin, looking between Martha and Francis.

"So, how many movies are there?" Martha asks, propping her chin on her hand.

"Ten." I reply getting annoyed by the delay in my story.

"That's alot."

I nod looking down at my scuffed shoes.

"I didn't even pass the objective of the first movie, I died and lost a life."

Francis stiffles a laugh.

"It's not funny." I say narrowing my eyes.

Francis giggles once more rising off of the old chair.

"A little bit, come on kid, have a sense of humour."

Standing up, I pace slowly over to Francis, trying to keep my temper under control.

"I just died."

Francis turns around eyebrows raised, almost questioning the fact that I'm still arguing with him.

"I get it kid, but with all do respect I think you're crazy."

Without trying to conceal my temper, I storm out of the apartment and lean over the balcony.  The cars look so small from the height I'm at.  Martha opens the door and I can hear the clipping of her heels across the cement floor. 

"Don't mind him.  Hes just a little rough around the edges."

I let out a big puff of air.  "Well, it's kind of frustrating when I'm stuck in some make believe world and your boyfriend is laughing at the fact that if I die two more times I'll be trapped in here forever."

Martha nods, walking up beside me and leaning over the balcony.

"I get it, but when I first met him he was different.  I just wish he wasn't always so protective."

Martha looks over to me and smirks. 

"I can't say I understand what you're going through, but I have been through some weird shit, and I know you'll get through it.  I'll help you, I'm sure I can talk Francis into helping you too."

I can't help but smile. "Thanks, Martha."

She nods her head and walks towards the door.  She looks over her shoulder one last time before walking in, and letting it close behind her. I take one last look at the city before me, and then follow Martha inside. I see Martha quietly speaking to Francis when I walk inside. Francis looks annoyed, but not angry. Like a child that isn't getting his way with things. He looks and glares at me when I sit back down on the old couch. Martha whispers in his ear and looks at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry for not helping you." Francis mumbles under his breath.

"And?" Martha says, eyebrows raised.

"And for saying you're crazy."

Martha nods looking pleased with herself.

"We will help you, but first there's something we have to take care of."

"Ok." I reply, confused as to what could be more important.

Martha grabs a pair of cat ears of the counter, and Francis grabs a red clown nose. Martha winks at me and grabs my wrist, yanking me down the steps to the lobby.

"What are we doing??" I ask, not expecting a response.

"Strictly business. There is something we need to get out of the way." Martha says, not turning to look at me. "It'll only take a minute, I promise."

Martha and Francis run ahead of me and jump into a red convertible. Martha waves her arm at me. "Come on!" I hesitantly jump into the car, and barely touch the seat before getting launched forward and down the busy streets of Manhattan.

"You're going to get a speeding ticket!" I yell over the sound of the blaring music and air pumping past my ears.

Francis simply laughs off my comment, and I'm positive that he speeds up the car. We finally stop at a small bridge where a man is standing and looking very confused. We all get out of the car and Francis pulls a gun out of his belt.

"Wait you're going to kill him??" I ask surprised.

Francis nods like its no big deal and begins walking towards the man. As we get closer, he begins looking more and more familiar until finally, I recognize him. I feel a large pit in my stomach as I remember why I know him. But it can't be possible, its happened once, but no way can this happen again, it can't be! I whisper the name under my breath, and can't even recognize the way it sounds on my tougue. "It's Matthew."