- Third book - Cannot be read as a stand-alone! Read The Secrets Of Finnley first!
"A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step."
Two years after Finnley first dissappeared, Cristian finds himself back at square one. With no idea whe...
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- Monday, May 7th, -
There's flashes of lights, sounds and feelings pooling inside me and my mind. There's fear, there's pain, there's sadness, a feeling of being lost.
I remember a fight, I remember Stan being angry at me, I remember feeling adamant and as if on a mission.
I clearly can remember how Stan was daring Jaimie to hit him again, I remember stepping in between them, taunting Jaimie for hating me because I confessed liking Stan; a lot.
I remember Jaimie's fist closing in on my face.
And how that is the last thing I remember.
The sounds that I remember, however, do not add up to the scenery in the locker rooms, where Jaimie hit me repeatedly. The lights I remember don't make sense. The feelings neither.
I didn't feel scared when Jaimie hit me, but I do remember being scared shitless; scared like I've never been before.
None of it makes sense.
I open my eyes, only for a second, closing them simply because the lights are too bright and it created some sort of explosion in my mind.
I hold back on the need to cry out, going over the memories I have, that feel distant, vague and not that cohesive.
My heart skips, sinks, yarns when I remind myself why I met Stan in the first place, and how I haven't received a note from Finnley for too long. How I have no idea how he's doing, where he is. His notes not making any sense.
But still it doesn't make sense, because my feelings for Finnley are that much stronger when I think about him, than I remembered.
It's as if the feelings are as strong and vivid as ever, while the memories still feel faintly, distant, wrong.
What the hell happened?
I try to make sense out of my mind, but I soon drift back off to some sort of vague dream in which I drown, and I can't get back to the surface. An unfamiliar face forcing me back down over and over again, until I can no longer fight, swallowing a liquid that doesn't feel like a liquid, right before I throw it all out, now actually feeling liquids leaving my throat.
I'm back in a bed, the lights are out, the darkness is welcome and calming, but the smell of my puke is disgusting.
"Holy shit..." Finnley's voice murmurs beside me tiredly. "That's one way to wake up..." He's already rushing around the bed, pressing a button, before forcing me to lay back down.
I answer his pressuring hands, thankfully laying back down with a throbbing headache, dizziness and mostly confusion.
"Finn?" My voice is weak, cracked, my throat hurting like hell at the vibrations of the words. "You're here..."
