in·san·i·ty | B.E (HIATUS)

2- Riley

Sometimes I can feel her presence. It's a small pulse in my brain, a borderline headache.

Mom's got me in therapy. It doesn't help. In all the books and movies the therapist asks deep questions and gives advice. Mine just asked how my day was over and over.

Fine, Boring, Great. Same questions equal same answers. She tried to ask me about Billie, about how much she meant to me. I didn't want to talk about it.

I caught myself riding past her house. Her parents don't live there anymore. They bailed town as soon as her burial was over. The burial that didn't have a body. The empty plot underneath the stupid headstone.

I couldn't bring myself to go there. There's absolutely zero point in going. She's alive, and I wanted to find her.

In all these books, the girl leaves cute little clues as to where she is and the guy always knows how to find them. How am i supposed to know where she is? Where are all the cute little clues that lead me to her?

I'll admit I tried to think of a clue she might've left. I had entertained the idea of her leaving a note by her gravestone or by her old house, but each time I got ready to go there an invisible force stopped me.

Every time I think of her I feel a small pulse in my brain, a borderline headache.