Khrysta let out a sigh as she laid back in her seat. This was the fifth day in a row that her head felt like it was being slowly wedged in half by a wood splitter, and it was getting quite tiresome. There were times where she thought she heard someone screaming, but she amounted that to stress from the pain she'd been experiencing for the last week. When was this Hell supposed to end? As if being home all the time wasn't bad enough, now she had to deal with her own body conspiring against her. Why did the whole universe have to be set dead against her very existence?
Once she'd had enough she decided to look around for anything that night soothe the torture her skull had been enduring for a while now. She made her way to her Dad's vanity and glanced over its contents, carefully looking over each label to make sure that she wasn't putting the wrong medication into her body. This was a lesson she'd learned a long time ago and, so, never needed to be told about why it was important to check labels. She found her father's migraine relief pills and took a couple into her paw.
Downing them with water, Khrysta went back to her room to last down until she heard the phone ring. She hasn't any clue as to why she stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, but she did. Her father came in and answered.
"Westbrook residence, how may I help you? ... Oh! Hey! It's been a long time, how are you doing? ... That's great to hear. What compelled you guys to call after all these years? ... Oh..." The last response on Travis' part left a pit in Khrysta's stomach. It sounded... disappointed. She couldn't stand to hear that kind of tone in his voice. When her dad looked up at her, he handed the phone over to her. "It's for you," was all he said.
Khrysta took the receiver and put it against her ear. "Hello?"
"Hi, Khrysta. Do you happen to know where Briggan lives?"
Chills surged through her entire body as she immediately recognized the voice on the other end of the line.
"No way!" She gasped in pure disbelief as everything inside of her flopped around, making her tremble and begin to feel sick.
Mastavian's cell began to ring. Looking at the number, he answered it reluctantly. "Hey, how are you doing?"
"Not so well. Would you mind if I came over to get out of the house for a while? I need a change of scenery."
"How about the three of us go to the park? Briggan can use the same right about now."
"Alright. I'll park outside your guys' house and we can walk. It'll be cold as hell, but at least we'll be able to keep our minds occupied."
"Yeah, I think that's what we all need at the moment."
"Sounds good. I'll see you in a few minutes."
YOU ARE READING
Never Too Late
General FictionBriggan wasn't somebody that wanted friends. He'd been alone for as long as he could remember, and he wouldn't mind it if he stayed that way for the rest of his days. Or, at least, he would've... had someone not began meddling in his life. Now, ever...
