"Alyvia, could you at least talk to me?" Jamie runs beside me to catch up with my long strides. Even though he was a foot shorter than me just a year ago, he's caught up and become a little taller than me. Most guys are always taller than girls, but my legs are still longer. He only has a few inches on me, anyway.
I want to get away from him, but I can't tell him to leave me alone. He wouldn't even if I could tell him to. Jamie has never been the type to let things go, and even after we've lost contact, he still finds ways to show that he cares. Even with the town going under continuous renovations, he invites me out as much as he can. I, of course, blow him off, but he doesn't take no for an answer.
He follows me for a good 10 minutes, asking all sorts of questions and trying to get my attention. He comments on my pale skin and my hair. I guess it looks greasy. Jamie grabs my arm, but I pull away from his grasp without trying, finally getting him to stop talking. I feel his sadness radiating like heat off of his body, but I only speed up my pace. The sidewalk is my freeway, and I want to get off of it as soon as possible.
Jamie follows me down the sidewalk until we come across a diner of sorts. I've never seen it, even though it looks old. 20 years living in this town, but I've never seen this building. He pulls away and joins the crowd of people standing outside. A loud band plays just inside the building, keeping anyone from entering. They cheer outside, wearing thin clothing. Thin for a night like this, anyway. It's December, but no snow. It's been that way for a few years now. The loud and distinct jingling of chains behind me makes me stop and turn. I lock eye contact with Kaylie. Why won't anyone just leave me alone? Is one night to myself so hard to ask for?
"Hey, what's up with you? I just talked to Jamie, and he said he's concerned about you. I mean...everybody is." I ignore her. She isn't nearly as persistent as Jamie.
"I'm giving you a ride. Give me the directions on the way there." She runs a little ahead of me, pulling keys out of her backpack. For a second, I try to walk around her, but she grabs my arm firmly. I take back what I said about her being persistent. I stop dead in my tracks, looking at her annoyingly.
I follow her to her car, noticing the chains on her backpack.
Hopping in the passenger seat, I pull out my phone and look at myself in the reflection. Was I always this pale? The car jumps when she hops on the other side, closing the door behind her. We drive in silence for what feels like an hour but turns out to be 20 minutes. By silence, I mean no radio. Only the faint hum of the engine and the wooshing of passing cars. It doesn't happen frequently, but it's enough to remind me that sound does exist in the countryside.
Kaylie passes me more than a few glances. They look worried. Rightfully so, no one knows what's going on with me. I myself aren't even sure. "I don't know how...but I know you're in there, Ryan." I look at Kaylie. My heart nearly thuds out of my chest. I break out in a sweat, and my lip starts to tremble.
"How...?" She shrugs, confirming her own beliefs.
"I'm asking myself that right now. She was freaking out about you, and now you're in her? I don't understand the science behind it at all."
"I'm not Ryan."
"You're right, but he's in there. That's why you've been acting different." I shake my head hard, finally turning my body to face her. She keeps her eyes on the road. "that's why you have pale skin, and your veins are popping. You look..." She takes a pause and debates if she should continue. I'm guessing her curiosity wins. "you look like Ryan did before he died. You showed me the pictures. Veins popping everywhere, ribs showing, pale skin, nearly gray eyes...You're taking the same form as him, Alyvia. You're becoming-"
"I'm not becoming anything. I'm just dying."
She laughs nervously, accelerating the vehicle. "All the signs point to it. The holes in your arms-"
"Those are from heroin."
"You don't do heroin, Alyvia. You wouldn't. You hate that shit. Just listen to me." Her voice becomes forceful. My friend sits before me, keeping a calm demeanor on the outside, while she freaks out on the inside. She doesn't believe it herself, but the proof is just uncanny. She continues, "those holes in your arms, the not eating, not talking, never showing emotion to anything. That's how he was before he died. You've blamed yourself for so long, and now, it's catching up with you. I think he wants you to feel what he felt."
"It isn't my fault that he died, Kaylie."
She nods. "I know."
I gaze out the window again, bringing up my sleeves. My veins are a dark green against nearly white skin, as broad as a ketchup stain on a white jacket. Sure enough, on the inner elbow of my right arm, tread marks dance on my skin. I bring my fingers up my stomach, tickling my ribs unintentionally. They're distinct and out there; my stomach arches inwards. I feel myself gag in disgust.
The car comes to an abrupt stop, and I fly into the dashboard. Kaylie laughs, causing me to look at her angrily. Her face is distorted, bits of Ryan's features poking through. I gasp, reaching beside me to open the door quickly. I nearly throw myself out of the car while Ryan-Kaylie stares at me. A sharp pain cruises through my entire body, making me scream in pain. I've never felt anything as painful as this. I tear my fingernails into my own stomach, tearing through the little bit of flesh protecting my bones. The distorted face watches me, amused. It laughs just like him, burning memories into my mind. My heart nearly collapses on itself, causing my body, except my clawing fingers, to go limp.