his two thousand deaths + l.h

one

I
08·23·14

Luke Hemmings attempted suicide at the age of 18.

Or at least Aspyn Winslow thought he did.

Aspyn, who forever referred to herself as Pin, received her end of her late grandfather's will only about a month before classes, roughly seven years after the man's death. It was a mix-up between an older brother who occupied the house before she did and his seven-month leave that led to Pin to the other end of California for a college semester simply for a smaller home-to-school gap. At least that's what she told everyone else when in truth, it was her form of rehabilitation.

Her therapist told her that a fresh scenery would be great for her. Uprooting her entire built life in Orange County from primary school up to high school wasn't really a great scenario for her parents but the small amount of convincing Pin's therapist had done to let her stay on her own for some time made them prepare everything in the short span of two days.

It was almost a snap decision considering all the school papers and relocation adjustments they had to prepare and she still found it surreal that somehow, she was about to live on her own for the first time in her life.

It wasn't as fulfilling as paying for her own house and providing for herself considering her money was still from her parents, her necessities were all practically handed by her parents, even her house was from her parents, but it was, so far, her biggest step to adulthood and she's happy with it.

Needless to say, Pin was excited for everything. Being alone in a house, being able to not live by anyone else's standards and rules. Her therapist told her it'd more likely than not help with her dependence issue and widens her perspective in terms of valuing what she doesn't and she was prepared for that. She was trying to help herself in recognizing it but Pin just had no idea how to relate a teenager hanging off a windowsill with a positive outlook on life.

She arrived in the family vacation house before noon. It was still the same house she remembered from Thanksgiving celebrations and family reunions with its Victorian gates and gloomy paint. She vividly remembered the windows with chipped paint since it was where her cousins spent time picking Guava fruits from the tall tree outside and she was absolutely sure that there wasn't supposed to be a lanky teenage boy walking to the edge.

"Oh my God, don't jump!" She shrieked the moment she passed the gate of the gigantic estate. It didn't take a lot to notice the skinny boy hesitantly letting go of the frame and hold on again, as if contemplating if he should jump. She considered calling for someone else to help but her phone was drained and she didn't even know if there were any telephones inside.

He didn't seem to hear Pin so she yelled again and he looked at the entrance where she was flailing her arms.

"I'm sorry?" He yelled back, not exactly understanding why she was panicking, and she held both her palms up, facing him.

"Wait! Please don't move, just wait!"

Pin immediately dashed to the door, fumbling with the keys, and nearly tripping on the carpet by the entrance. She still remembered the inside of the house from her few visits and it didn't take long to find the staircase that led to the second landing. The moment she was on the next floor though, she was lost.

"Hello!" she screamed and a tiny voice replied from the end of the hallway.

By the time she reached the last door, it was already opened. It led to a bathroom and straight across was the same kid wearing a dark flannel she saw from outside.

"What are you doing?" She screamed the moment she got to him and pulled his wrist, yanking him inside. He tumbled to the floor and tripped, falling on his side, while groaning. She didn't notice what he held in his hand earlier but beside him, a tennis racket fell to the ground.