The Shooting Star

8. C O L D

A special thanks to saaliwritesss

" We are sometimes taken
into troubled waters,
not to be drowned but
to be cleansed. "

- Anonymous

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Kylie

Cold breeze licks my bare skin the moment I step on the outside. It's getting so cold nowadays, after all, winter is knocking on the door. I hug myself trying to provide some warmth in my bare skin as the thin layer of my t-shirt was doing nothing to save me from the chill weather.

The thought of paying a surprise visit to the police station might be considered another reason behind the sudden coldness that sipped through my entire being.

Is it only me?

Because I don't see anyone else surrendering to the weather like me.
I shrugged it off as the mind game of my fucked up mind, taking out my phone I open Google Maps. I have only ever been to the police station once and the condition I was in? Not the ideal moment to memorise my surroundings. Being interrogated two hours after my best friend's death wasn't the nicest thing for me.

I checked the way in Google Maps, it's quite far. At the 34th Avenue.

"Kylie." Here we go. It doesn't take me too much to recognise the voice despite its unfamiliarity because I know only one person with this high-pitched voice that has been playing on like a broken record near my ear for four hours nonstop, each day. That makes it twelve hours in three days.

"Please, tell me you aren't here to follow me home," I ask him without lifting my head from my phone screen. I felt his presence on my left side.

"No, I mean... Don't you live in the neighbour," he asks me frowning as I hail a cab. He would be quite inspiring for stalkers.

I regret ever thinking that getting stalked was hot while reading a dark romance book. It is not.

I glance at him shoving my phone into the pocket of my baggy pants.

"That's right I am going to the police station," I answer him waving at the supposed cab. I hope it's available.

He frowns still getting a hard time catching his breath.

Should I offer him some water?

Or maybe not. I glance at him - he looks okayish, well not dying any time soon.

Besides I have learnt my lesson that helping people is a dangerous thing to do. Everything in this world has a cost even helping others.

The frown on his face remains as if he is hoping I would burst out into laughter telling him it's a joke. He is such an open book. He is gonna be in serious trouble one day if he doesn't learn to school his expression.

"Police station?" he questions hesitantly.

"Yeah, you know in case I murder someone someday and have to get away with it. I gotta keep track of how that stuff works." I stare at his dumbfounded face offering him my sweetest smile. I got in the cab that stopped at my sign.

I see him standing in there troubled, swaying back and forth on his feet. The car drives off making his figure grow distinct with each second.

I throw my head on the headrest taking in a sharp breath. I refuse to believe someone like Mathew is adamant about being my friend just because I helped him.