An aspiring eighteen-year-old author realizes she is a character in an unwritten horror novel and must use her storytelling knowledge to survive.
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Eighteen-year-old romance writer, I...
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I met Atem's gaze, wondering if he was indeed my friend or someone else they had let loose on me. The Atem I knew wouldn't suggest getting rid of my notebook. He knew me like the back of his hand. Why would he do that? Unless he had a point.
No. This notebook meant too much to me. That letter from Clay meant everything. I could never.
Atem's words were void of the personality I mostly knew him for when he mumbled. "I don't think I'm gonna make it."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I tuned into his ashen grey pigment and sweat on his skin.
"I think I'm dying." He blinked slowly. His once large, bright brown eyes now looked dim and hollow. "My parents are standing over there, watching and waiting. They're waving me over, wanting me to go to them. You see them?"
I looked over my shoulder at nothing but darkness and fog amongst the trees. "You're not gonna die. I won't let you." As the words left my lips, I realized although my intentions were good, I had no ability to keep that promise. I didn't know what to do to prevent him from slipping further away from me and closer to death, but his appearance confirmed death was slowly approaching.
His leg looked worse, swollen, black and blue. I couldn't look at it for long, wincing from the pain myself.
"Zeke and Felicity are still alive." He closed his eyes. "I saw them in the trees, too. They're hanging there. They looked lifeless, but were still breathing. Moaning."
"Were they together?"
He slowly nodded. "You gotta go get them, Ima." His breathing became labored. "I won't be here much longer. I can feel it."
"Atem, you can't leave me," I begged. "I need you. You gotta fight this, okay?" I needed to hear that he wouldn't give up.
"Only if you do."
"If I do what?" Confused, I cocked my head, resting my palm on his clammy shoulder.
"I'll fight if you fight." He opened his eyes to fix them on something behind me. "Take the camera and go find them. You don't have a lot of time. My parents are waiting to take me. They want me and I believe Clay wants you, too."
I glanced over my shoulder out of instinct. "You're scaring me."
"You gotta fight it. Don't let the darkness call you in."
I nodded. "Will you be okay?" I knew the answer, but needed some encouragement from his mouth.
"I'll be here waiting," he said.
"You promise?" Hot tears ran down my cheeks.
He nodded, gulping down what look like fear and pain. "I promise on my grandma."
"Don't do that." I shook my head, gently gripping his shoulder at his dire vow.
He grabbed my hand until I focused on his eyes. "Now you know I'm telling the truth. So, go."
