The heartbreak, you expect. The tears and the unread texts are just byproducts. But none of those things can be prepared for. The absolute heart wrenching pain every time you see their face. The way you feel like screaming when you’re left alone with nobody to comfort you.
Evony tried to hold back the tears as Alisa boarded the train without a single look back. At that moment, she hated herself. All the unsaid words she would never have a chance to say. Alisa was leaving to go to a boarding school in Europe (the exact location was not disclosed as Alisa’s parents hated Evony and wanted her to stay in America, far away from their daughter) and all contact with Evony was to be severed.
She let a tear slip down her face, quickly wiping it away with the back of her hand. This was it.
Evony was in a daze as she made her way back home. As the front door shut behind her, she nearly slid to the floor as the tears come pouring out in heavy sobs. What was left now?
Letting Alisa leave the worst thing she could’ve done. Now she was alone and that realization knocked her off of her feet as she collapsed to her knees, broken weeps emanating from her lips.
It’s been 12 hours and 35 minutes since my brother went missing. It was snowing and dark, the moon barely a sliver in the sky. His footsteps faded out hours ago, but I couldn’t just stop looking.
I should have listened to him. He told me he felt like he was being watched, but I thought he was paranoid. Why didn’t I listen? James had always been… strange. Did I snap?
Whatever the reason, I needed to find him, and now. I remember reading somewhere on the internet that most kidnapping victims only last 24 hours before their bodies turn up. Which meant I had less than 12 hours to find him…
He smiled - more of a smirk than anything - at me from across the bar. I gave an awkward wave, thinking about how his tattered shirt made him look like he had just crawled out of a dumpster. He took that as an invitation to walk over, a glass of a deep, red liquid sloshing over the rim clutched in his right hand.
“Well, hello there, handsome.” He set his glass down next to me, scooting the bar school until it was barely a couple inches from mine.
“What’s your name?” He asked. I should’ve rolled my eyes, laughed and walked away, anything but tell him.
“Jackson.” I took a small sip from my beer, it tasted bitter and I recoiled a bit. The man must’ve noticed for he offered me his drink. I declined with a polite shake of the head. “What do you go by?” I asked instead.
He smiled again, as if the question amused him, “Will.” He leaned in slightly and I could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“You know, Will, I think you’ve had enough.”
He laughed, it was ragged and deep. I caught a glance of a tattoo, one of a rose and the name “Bee” written on it in cursive imprinted at the base of his neck, right above the collar bone. I needed to get out of here.
Instead, “What are you doing tonight?” I asked, a slight blush creeping up my ears. I hoped Will didn’t notice, even though I knew a man with a neck tattoo of someone else’s name was bad news, he was enchanting. He was really fucking with my head.
He took a big swig from his glass, wiping his red-stained mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m cool with whatever you feel like doing.”
Oh boy, I was really in for it wasn’t I?
He said it so casually, not in a lustful way, but in a tone that suggested he really didn’t care. I smiled, and stopped clinging to my beer bottle like it was an anchor.
“Well…”
