Nice to Know

A New Chapter 2 Years Later Imagine That

Okay so I'm going to start off by apologizing for how long it's been since I updated this. But congrats, yall finally wore me down. I initially avoided this because Good for Gone is actually being edited heavily right now so it can be a real book and everything, and quite a few things have changed, which will alter how the sequel will go. The story is essentially the same, all the big happenings are still the same its just been cleaned up a LOT. The original was a first draft I wrote when I was 18 (I'm 22 now lol), and I essentially had no idea where I was taking it up until the very end, so things like pointless characters and unresolved subplots have been cleared away. That being said, a lot of what I already have in this sequel (as far as I can remember) is inaccurate now. The Angel is roughly the same, and Randall's back story is the same, but I'm not sure if I'm keeping Ivan yet so we'll have to see how that goes. But I figured there was enough here that I could try and reroute it in the direction I would like to take the real sequel, but I apologize for the fact that it's going to be a bit clunky. I'm so happy that everyones been enjoying this story, I see all of your comments even if I don't respond to them and they always make me smile. I hope everyone enjoys the rewrite/updates, even though I am now older and my writing style has changed a bit haha. If anyone is interested I would love to get feedback on the new edit or share some samples as it comes along, but that's for a different day.

Aaannyywwaaayyy, I'm going to stop being annoying and get into the actual story!

*****

I knew that voice. It was her. It was the voice that belonged to the name I could speak out loud. The voice had only danced around the perimeters of my mind for a long time, like we were in different rooms in the same house. It had always been out of reach, but in that moment it was crystal clear.

I reached up subconsciously, feeling the puckered scar where the knife had slipped expertly between my ribs. The area had always felt kind of cold since then, like a dank basement in my chest where my heart was supposed to be.

Sometimes I would rub the skin like I'd done as a kid to warm up my hands after playing in the snow, but it never helped. It felt unyeildingly drafty, as if it opened up onto somewhere I couldnt see, and everything that used to be inside me was slowly leaking out.

I'd asked Peter if he ever felt that way about the glossy pink scars all over his abdomen, but he only said that eventually you just felt that way everywhere, which wasn't what I'd wanted to hear at all. I never asked for anymore details after that.

The thing on the floor was watching me as if it had anticipated this reaction. It didn't really have eyes, but I felt watched in the way you do when you walk past windows in the middle of the night.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked.

I tipped my head to the side slightly, and the angel did the same, only in a mocking way, curling until it's crusty scalp brushed the carpet. It's neck made small, wet cracking sounds the further it went and I saw Peter grimace.

"I'm not sure."

The Angel smiled. It didn't actually look like a smile, but the way its facial muscles twisted and fidgeted hinted at the intention of the expression.

It laid down completely on its front in order to bring up its bony arms over its head. I could see it arch its back, it's spinal ridges straining against the skin as it brought its gnarled fingers over its head and began tearing at the remaining scraps of fabric, and eventually, the skin itself.

It didn't bleed.

But as soon as it dug its fingers into its flesh I heard a loud echoing sound in my head. I clamped my hands over my ears instinctively, but it did nothing to muffle the sound.

Sinking to my knees I saw Peters mouth move as he tried to ask me what was wrong. I could see him glancing at the writhing figure as it tore into itself, seeming to aim right for the spot where my own chest ached.
I wanted to answer him, but I couldn't form any coherent thoughts, my brain was full of a loud echoing phrase that drowned out everything else.

EMPTY GIRL

EMPTY GIRL

EMPTY GIRL

EMPTY GIRL

EMPTY GIRL

EMPTY GIRL

EMPTY GIRL

***

Sorry this is a bit short, but there is more to come as soon as I have more time.