When Worlds Collide
ONE
'I love you. Please, don't leave me.' I whispered into his hair as he lay dying in the grass, blood soaking his shirt, just above his navel. But I wasn't crying. I wanted to, so badly I wanted to cry, but no tears were escaping my eyes. I lifted my head slightly to look, once again, into his beautiful blue eyes. He struggled to focus as he looked back at me.
'I love you.' He whispered, his breath failing him. I dry sobbed as I pulled his body, as if it weighed nothing, to my chest. I could still hear is heart beating, feel it through our shirts, but it was so weak. I don't know how I knew he only had moments left to live, but I did. I looked once again into his vacant eyes and seemed to come to a conclusion. Anything is better than life without him. I smoothed his shaggy blond hair back from his sweat soaked forehead and I murmured once again to him, 'I love you. I'm so, so sorry.' Then, I brought my lips to his throat.
I sat up, disoriented and sweaty in my bed. I shivered, although I wasn't cold. For some reason, I felt like I was missing something. It was just out of my grasp but I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what it was. I tried to think back on the dream I just had. Nothing. There was grass and blood. But that's all I remember. The colors, they clashed so brilliantly, but that's the only recollection I had. It was almost like some long-forgotten memory. I shook my head, trying to clear it.
I closed my eyes once again and fell back into a dreamless sleep. My alarm buzzed on my phone. I groggily reached over and turned it off. I threw off the covers and, with my eyes closed, I walked to the bathroom. My morning routine was long and slow, as usual. I made it downstairs just in time before I had to leave.
I grabbed my things and tossed them into my car. My brother climbed in after me and we were off. The rest of the morning was also rather bland. School was, well, school. Nothing exciting happened and people were as aloof and as stupid as usual. I was in a pretty good mood but my cheeriness wore off and, by lunch, I was back to my somewhat pessimistic self.
That's when things started getting strange. I stood up to get my books for the final few hours of classes, when my phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I checked to see who the new text message was from. No Number, it read. That's odd.
I opened the message anyway, curiosity overcoming me. It's time. I gasped. Time? Time for what? It must be the wrong number. I closed the message and opened my locker. A small piece of purple paper fell out and onto my feet. Get ready. It read.
I looked at it suspiciously, like it was going to bite me, and I reached up to put it back into my locker. Something, a little voice in the back of my head maybe, told me to keep it. So, instead of putting it in my locker, I slipped it into the back pocket of my jeans.
Carrying my armload of books, I walked back to the table and sat down. The moment I sat down, my friends all got up to get their stuff. I laughed under my breath. Great timing! I glanced down at the table, to avoid the awkwardness of sitting alone, when I noticed something under my books. Pen? I pushed them aside and one word was etched into the table in big, red letters. My eyes widened as I realized it wasn't pen. Blood. I reached out to touch it. As soon as my fingers came in contact with the letters, before I could make a sound, I blacked out.