What Follows 6 3.1: Alone

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I blink in the darkness before Tobias' light blinds me.

I purse my lips unpleasantly and squint at him, and his stupid red waves for hair. "What are we now? Bound together forever?"

"You're very unpleasant-" He says with a smirk. "I just don't think anyone would like to be left alone in this darkness."

"Well, what now?" I say irritably. "You'll accompany me every time G.o.d or whoever calls on me to get me 'punished'?"

"If you want t-"

"No, I don't," I snap, and narrow my eyes at him. He looks unamused as he crosses his arms across his chest. "Besides, don't you have your own drama to catch up with?"

"I mean, after thirty cycles, it isn't as frequent-" He says, his upper lip quirked up, and his hazel eyes bright. "Besides, I think that it's quite cool that we can interact this way-" He steps closer to me as he enthusiastically explains himself. "I mean, you can drag me in your world, and I can drag you in mine. I never knew that could happen-"

"Yeah, I bet I'm giving you a ten out of ten, live drama show," I deadpan. "This is not cool-" His smirk falls as he notices how serious I am. And I really am. This is very personal, and not any idiotic red-head should be allowed to intervene in any way. This is my secret. My punishment. My story. And that's all it'll ever be.

"This isn't some stupid game-" I continue. "I don't know where the h.e.l.l I am, and what the h.e.l.l I'm doing. And yeah, I get it, you want to help, and s.h.i.t-" I shake my head. "Well, you tried, but I don't think this is some teamwork project. This is the kinda s.h.i.t in which too many cooks spoil the broth kinda s.h.i.t. I really respect my privacy, and I do not want you with me."

When I'm done ranting at a motionless, stunned Tobias, I feel much better. It's like all the frustration that has been building up inside of me has finally left. I am obviously still worked up about how I'll spend an eternity watching myself as a memory that's worthy or unworthy of remembrance.

I know it'll hurt me by the rate things are going. Aiden's, and Jacob's reactions were enough to make me feel like a gasping fish out of the water, and like a giraffe with a short neck. Yes, it made me so very uncomfortable.

So I, naturally, am so angry at how at ease Tobias is. I mean, yeah, we get it, he spent thirty years or cycles or whatever here. I did not. I do not know what's really waiting for me. But all I wish for is that I never get to regret killing myself. Because I am sure it was the right choice.

Neither my parents nor my siblings cared about me except for when I've literally disappeared out of their lives. I didn't understand their reactions. I was always the third wheel whenever Sierra, Mason (my 'best friends'), and I hung out together. Which was fine, because I thought they caught feelings for each other. That was until they completely stopped caring about me. No-one cared to see why I was sad the day Joshua 'ditched' me as Tobias would put it. They didn't even notice my swollen eyes even though some other people I wasn't close to did.

All that hurt me and made me feel so very lonely. Combine that with my siblings-induced, and my Joshuinspired anxiety. My siblings were much more popular and smarter than I ever was. Or at least that was what my parents thought, and never minded being vocal about. And of course, that douchebag whom I loved (I actually, truly loved him) since freshman year, and dated for two years. He was all sweet in the beginning until he showed all the a.s.s he got in his personality.

So I was insecure about my intellect, social status, and beauty- which is pretty much my whole life. So yeah, you tell me, what's the point of living in a world that brought me to hate me?

"Girl! Lady-!" Tobias' thick voice comes, awakening me from my little, quite frequent, self-loathing episode I just had.

"Huh?"

"I thought you were gone for a second-"He let out a breath with a small smile.

"Gone where?"

"Out of the Darkoom-" He responds. "Back to your 'drama'-"

"I would've 'apparated' then-" I say boredly.

"Yeah, I thought so too-" He shifts, and pulls down on his oversized bear shirt, which I guess gave him a big, social boo. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, as long as I won't be seeing your face again till the end of time or whatever-"

"You are very rude-" He says. "I've never quite met someone like you-"

"Is that a question?"

"What's your name?"

"What's your business?"

"Would you rather me call you 'Lady' like an idiot? It's what I call you in my head-" He frowns slightly, and I blink at him.

"Yeah. That's if you'd ever need to call me."

"I'm the closest thing to friend you got here-" He says, his shoulders slumping a little. I narrow my eyes at his disappointed expression and sigh.

"I'm sorry, but I really need to spend some time alone," I try saying decently. "I thought you'd understand."

"Yeah, I guess-" He starts backing away with pursed lips, and cast down eyes. "I'll -uh-" He hooks his thumb, and points behind him as he looks up at me with a small smile. "I'll be hanging around somewhere. Just call my name, I guess. If you're lucky I'll be here, not in my 'drama'-"

"Yeah, thanks-" I smirk.

"If I need you, I'll call out 'Lady', okay?" He says, locking my eyes as if to ensure that I understood. "Don't be weirded out or anything. It's like our code-"

"What if there's another one like you?" I ask him bemusedly, and he lifts his brows.

"Another 'Tobias'? Good question-" He further backs away from me, pointing both his index fingers at me. His light is fading away by the viscous, throbbing darkness of the 'Darkoom'. "I guess use your charm. Show them the rude. It'll scare any normal person away."

My smirk turns into a smile. "So you're not normal?"

He stops moving back when his light is too faint to make out his facial expressions, but just enough to see his khaki shorts and unlaced shoelaces of some 90's trainers.

"I don't think any of us are normal darlin'-" He yells from a distance."I think we're dumb losers who finally want our voice heard in a soulless world. Which is dumb, because what's the point of just impressing losers like you? So, normal?" His faint chuckles echo. "Nah."

I smirk at his response and shake my head. He is right through and through. When he's completely gone, engulfed by the darkness, I sigh heavily. Now it is me, that stupid Darkoom, and the consequences of my actions to deal with.

Along with the memory of a stupid red-head.

...............

It's more like a blink of an eye or maybe even less than that. Probably less than that. I mean I wouldn't even be given the luxury of the time it takes for my eyelid muscles to contract, and relax. I am not even worth that. I am thrown right off into the punishment.

And no, I'm not in my mansion. Thank G.o.d.

I'm at Sierra's place. And to get into the specifics, I am in her rather modern, tiny, dim-lit room, staring at her make out with Mason. They are sitting on the bed, Sierra in a short, simple, red dress (maybe they were out on a date without telling me?) with Mason's hand up her thigh. Mason links their fingers together, and I roll my eyes.

So what now? Watching my best friends f.u.c.k is my new punishment?

I cross my arms across my chest as Sierra lets out a moan, and Mason proceeds to nurture on her neck. Talk about fifty-hundred shades of disturbing.

And finally, the moment that every reader to their romantic story would hate most, Sierra's phone rings (I know it's Sierra's because her ringtone is one of Bazzi's stupid songs). The couple part noisily, and I cringe.

Mason, in his Sierrmessed-up, dark hair, looks behind him, but Sierra pulls him to her by his unb.u.t.toned, white shirt.

"Ignore it-" She whispers, her eyes going all over her hot meal. "It's probably Rosey-"

My lips and Mason's bruised ones part at her.

"What if she needs something?"

I mean, yeah...Sierra, my eight-year-long best friend, what if?

"I need you-" She murmurs in Mason's ear seductively, and I raise my brows in disappointment.

Wow. That. b.i.t.c.h. I glance at the frame sitting on her messy bedside table that held our picture on our junior prom, and I resist the urge to knock it down. But then I take a deep breath and remind myself that she doesn't know that I'm dead. And that if I am in her place, h.o.r.n.y, and all, I'd probably ignore the caller, and not feel bad about it.

I look at the ground when Mason's fingers find her dress zip, and pull it down. For a second I wonder why G.o.d didn't send me f.u.c.king earplugs.

I almost cheer when Mason's phone rings this time, and he gets off of her. Sierra pouts and reaches for him, but he shakes his head, and fishes for his phone in his trousers' pockets.

"It could be Mom-" He explains as he stares at the screen that brightens his face a bit, and accentuates his frown. "It's -uh- Aiden Bracken-?"

Sierra, in her violet lingerie, bites in her lower lip and pushes away the hair that fell over her eyes. She frowns slightly and tilts her head. "Now? Midnight? That's weird-"

"Yeah-" Mason mutters before clearing his throat and picking up. "Hey, man-" Sierra crawls next to him as his face falls. "Yeah-" His voice drops an octave. "Yeah?" He shakes his head and holds his forehead. "But, why?"His shoulders slump and Sierra looks curious.

"Babe?" She murmurs, and Mason holds her eyes before looking away.

"Okay, yeah, of course-" Mason mutters. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe it-" He shakes his head again, and stands up, facing me, but looking down. "Yeah, you too-"

The call ends, and he looks up at me, his teary, dark eyes digging holes in my soul. He slowly lowers his arm and flinches when Sierra rests a hand on his shoulder. He half-way turns to her, and his lips frown.

Sierra looks uneasy and gulps. "What happened?"

A few tears tumble down his flushed cheeks, and he shakes his head. "Rosey-"

"What?" She whispers worriedly, and he wipes away his tears.

"Killed herself-" He chokes on the words, and Sierra looks away, dropping her hand from his shoulder.

"Oh-"

"Yeah-" Mason sniffs, his eyes watering up more. "I should -uh- I should probably go-"

"No!" Sierra exclaims as I examine her expressionless face. "Don't leave me like this-"

Mason frowns slightly, his hands fumbling with b.u.t.toning his shirt again. "Like, what?" He shakes his head. "Rosey. Died. She died-"

Sierra seems more upset, and alert by Mason leaving than my death's news. It is umm...como se dice...amusing. My best friend desperately stands in front of him and stops him from b.u.t.toning up his shirt.

I lift my brows and nod at her actions. Mason and Sierra have some intense eye contact before she licks her lower lip, catching his weary attention.

"I can take your pain away-" She murmurs, and Mason looks guiltily at her with blood-shot eyes.

"I've known her for three years-" He sniffs more, and Sierra uses his distraction to get closer to him, and hook her fingers in his trousers' belt loops.

"I've known her for eight-" She whispers to him, and he seems to be aware of how close they are now.

His eyes flicker down, between them, then up at her face. Sierra's lips quirk upwards, knowing that she won him over his grief for me. She slowly unb.u.t.tons his pants, and he pants heavily as she gets down on him.

I stand, disgusted beyond words, and hurt beyond thoughts. It is so painful, seeing Sierra so easily put aside my death. It makes me feel drained because I was preparing myself to get sad, and regretful. To just feel miserable, because I thought Sierra would react better than that. I thought I was worth more tears from her side after all we've been through together.

I watch Mason take off his shirt, and carry a grinning Sierra to the bed where they continue the deed.

"Wait-" I hear Sierra pant out from beneath him after a while.

"What-?"

Sierra's arm reaches over her bedside table before she flips down the frame with our photo. I sniff and know that I'm crying again. And G.o.d, I never knew one could get heartbroken when he's dead.

Mason doesn't comment, and Sierra switches off the lights. I sigh heavily and sniff more.

Sierra apparently never cared about me too. She tricked me into thinking that she was my best friend. My sister. I thought she actually cared. I thought that the time she spent advising me about s.h.i.t I'd get into (s.h.i.t of the boy or school variety), she was doing it from her heart. Like she really wanted to help me.

Did she pity me all that time? Was that why she hung out with me? Or was it Mason who forced her to do so? Mason who actually cared, and genuinely loved spending time with me. Mason who actually shed a tear or two for me.

Oh, G.o.d, only you know how this scene would've broken my heart if I had one right now. Is that why you didn't give me one? Did you know that I would get betrayed by my own sister? You knew I was too weak for that, didn't you?

I shake my head and cover my face with my hands. Is this the reason behind all the whispers that went around the school, that I was a lonely b.i.t.c.h, and that no-one can ever like me? I mean, she could've told the whole school, started the rumours.

Maybe she was the reason why my name was a boo to everyone. She knows my every secret.

I part my lips and shake my head at all my vicious thoughts. I mean, what if I am just making a.s.sumptions? What if Sierra was just too h.o.r.n.y? Why do I always jump to the worst conclusions?

I suddenly feel that my thoughts betrayed the bond I had with Sierra. This thought calms down my fear that Sierra could have been possibly betraying me all that time. I relax a little and remind myself of her genuine summer smiles, and crinkling, hazel eyes. I remind myself of the unG.o.dly amounts of ice cream we'd eat on the nights I'd get my period, and the times she'd cheer for me even when I thought I was being a loser.

It's almost an hour of drowning in my thoughts, and memories when the room falls completely silent. I know they've finally slept, and drag her desk's chair next to her bed.

I sit down and watch her sleep peacefully. She has a diamond face, narrow eyes, plump lips, and straight, shoulder-length, dark hair. I almost reach for her face but instantly remind myself that if I can't feel s.h.i.t, she definitely still can. I glance at her bedside table and tilt my head at our flipped down frame.

Very carefully, I flip it up again and ignore the condom's wrapper that sits next to it. I am smiling dreamily at our smiles when my vision gets suddenly clouded by darkness.