𝐄𝐳𝐫𝐚 | 18+

10

"Do you ever think about the fact that there's a jellyfish out there that can live forever?" I ask, swinging my legs off the edge of the cliff, the adrenaline from being so close to danger pumping through me.

I don't know why, maybe it's just me, but whenever I'm holding something fragile and I know it breaks easily, a part of me tells me to just drop it and break it. Just to satisfy myself. Or when I'm on the freeway and I'm tempted to just open the door. Maybe i'm just psychotic. Yeah, that's probably it.

"Who verified that?" He asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I dunno but it's called the Turritopsis Dohrnii." I say, leaning back on my elbows.

"How did they even verify that it lives forever? As far as i know, humans are mortal." He states.

"Exactly. By what I've read about it, it lives it's life in a cycle. Like it grows into an adult jellyfish and when you'd expect it to die it pops into an egg. I don't even know how that's possible. Why do jellyfish even exist? They're basically brain dead." I say.

"That's a good question...they must have a reason." He shrugs.

"What's your favorite game show? I personally like The Wheel Of Fortune. I should definitely go on because I'd win billions. I mean I already am half a billionaire but whatever." I flick my hair back jokingly. He laughs softly. I look down into the deep water.

"What do your tattoos mean?" I ask, not stopping myself from taking my eyes down the visible tattoos.

Do tattoos where the sun doesn't shine exist?

"They don't really have a meaning, only a few do. Like this one," he points to a butterfly on his collarbone, "is for my mother. She used to love butterflies." He smiles lightly.

"Used to? She doesn't like them anymore?" I ask. When I was ten, me and my best friend would shout 'We're gonna die!' every time we saw a butterfly and proceed to run away from it. Same thing with bees.

"She still does...but she's dead." He says softly, almost inaudibly. "Cancer." He adds. My eyes widen  I should've read between the lines.

"I'm-" I start, but he cuts me off.

"Don't be sorry. It's fine." He shakes his head dismissively.

There's a moment of awkward silence before he speaks again.

"What are your parents like?" He asks, his eyes peering up to view line. I bite down on my bottom lip, hating the answer to his question.

"They passed away." I respond bluntly. His eyes hold mine in a way that makes it seem as though he were trying to study me, maybe trying to get a glimpse into my mind.

"My condolences."

"Thank you." I nod.

"Can I ask how?"

"I don't know, I came home from school one day and my mom was on the floor...dead. And I lost my dad a while before that."

❌❌❌trigger warning❌❌❌

⚠︎︎flashback⚠︎︎

My feet ache from how long I've been walking on the hard concrete and my head hurts from the relentless Sun. When my house comes into view, my steps get quicker as I can already feel the coolness of the air conditioning. In my peripheral vision I see a black SUV that I don't recognize drive away at a frightening speed.

'Maybe one of the neighbors got a new car...' I think to myself.

I make it to the front porch and fish out the keys from my pocket as my feet heavily walk up the three steps.