Devoid [Bruno Mars]

Chapter one

Chapter one

a few hours later

I was falling.

That dip you feel when you decline on that roller coaster ride twisted in my stomach, and I gripped at the-fabric, sheets-to stop my descend into the bottomless well. When I opened my eyes, everything swirled, and so I shut them, sinking back into the darkness they gave.

*

The sound of a whirring fan awoke me. I watched it for awhile, twirling so fast above me it was wobbling. The sound of banging in the kitchen was coming from downstairs. I turned to my nightstand, the clock read 9:18am. I sat up, too quickly, and doubled over at the pain. It was as if someone's fingers were digging a hole in my stomach. I flipped over, pressing my face against the pillow to muffle my screaming.

There was a big, dark spot in the pillow once I stopped biting it. I dragged myself out of bed. My knees turned into marshmallows once the soft carpet was beneath my feet and I had to lean against my nightstand until my limbs were working again. I reached for the door. The sounds in the kitchen became louder once I opened it; the transformed water hitting the coffee maker cup; the cupboards opening and slamming; the humming of the refrigerator. The smell of toast and coffee wafted through the air vents, surrounding me, making my feet move down the hall and down the stairs.

To get to the kitchen, you must pass the dining room. On the table were books, thick psychology books that I haven't seen in a while. "Mom?" I called before stepping into the kitchen. It almost hurt to talk, my throat dry, like a little desert had formed in my mouth. Lingering by the entrance to the kitchen, I watched her back as she spread butter on her toast. She was wearing a bathrobe, her rust colored hair in its usual bun so it wouldn't fall into her eyes as she read. She threw a look behind her shoulder at the sound of my voice. "Morning, Adrian. Want some toast?"

"Sure." I tried swallowing. "But make it like yours, extra butter."

"Is this my daughter talking?" She faked concern, a laugh in her voice. "Are you sick?"

She was being sarcastic, but I did feel sick. "What are the books doing on the table?"

She paused, then slowly covered the butter container with its lid. She turned around, a plate of toast in her hand. Her eyes were smiling, crinkling at the corners, but dark shadows still hung under them. "I'm studying mental illnesses. How people get them over time, their causes. Thought you'd want to join me on my research?" She was looking slightly hopeful. It caught me off guard because we haven't gone over her books in years. I missed it, honestly. But why the sudden change? "I would love to."

"Great. Grab the cups for me?" I did so, downing my orange juice before picking up her coffee. We went to the dining room table and sat the plate and cups in the middle, the books near the edge. "So illnesses," I began, while she put her reading glasses over her auburn eyes. "Can you save people? I mean, prevent them before it happens?"

"You can't save people, Adrian. Only love them." She suddenly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I forgot to check the mailbox. I'm hoping the ScienceNow issue finally made it here."

"I'll check it for you," I offered. Outside, my elderly neighbor was crouched, watering her flower beds in the front of her lawn. Once she saw me, she straightened, her sun hat getting in the way of her sight. "Child!" she called to me, flipping the hat away from her eyes. "What's that dust on your mama's truck?"

"Ma'am?" I questioned, but I could see it from here. I slid my finger across the truck's window, leaving a clear line on the glass. My fingertip was orange. "I don't know. Maybe my mom went out somewhere for work?" Sometimes she did have to travel to different places in the city for her job, assisting in special researches. But I had never seen this red dust before. Desert sand, it looked like.

"You see this hose here?" She lifted up the green hose proudly. "It'll clean it up in a spiffy. Let me just go get the other part to it. I'll be right back."

"No, ma'am, you don't have to worry-" She was either ignoring me, or couldn't hear. The door slammed shut behind her. I wiped my finger on my shirt, which blended in with the shirt's red color. I moved to the mailbox. I didn't even get to open the lid before he called my name.

"Adrian!"

I looked. A man was walking down the street, towards me. His hair was big and curly, and as the morning sunlight struck him it lined him with gold. For some reason, I thought of angels, and my breathing caught a little. He stopped in front of me. No one had ever looked at me like he was doing then, his eyes wide and desperate, wanting. . . finding something. I had to remind myself that I didn't know who he was. "Do I know you?"

Those words made his whole face fall. He dug his hand in his back pocket, swallowing hard before taking whatever it was out. He stretched out his arm and a necklace rolled from his hand. I gasped, absentmindedly drawing a hand to the base of my neck, where my necklace was supposed to be but wasn't. I delicately touched the star pendant while it dangled between us, the silver jewel winking in the sun. He was still holding it, watching me. "How did you get this?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

"I forgot to give it you," he said, his voice smooth, low, and he wrapped his warm fingers around my hand, pushing the necklace into my palm. But then, he thought better of it, and unhooked the clasp. His eyebrow raised. "Can I?"

I nodded, turning around. It was something about him that made me do it. I didn't know him, and if it was someone else's offer I would have shook my head, telling them politely that it was okay, I got it. I lifted my hair up as he brought his arms around my neck. The pendant felt cold, and I told myself I shivered at that and not at his fingers brushing against my skin. "Okay," he murmured.

I turned back around, touching the pendant. I knew he saw the questions in my eyes because he looked to be on the verge of saying something. Instead, he looked away, his eyebrows furrowing. He groaned. The tears came, slipping fast over his jaw. I didn't know how to react to a stranger crying in front of me. Let alone a man, who I've only seen cry in movies.

He touched my cheek with his thumb. It lingered there. I wanted to pull away but I was frozen. Even though his eyes were sad, he smiled the tiniest bit. "Goodbye," he said softly, then turned swiftly around, and he walked away from me.

Pressure suddenly clamped down on my chest and it became difficult to breathe. My grip on the mailbox tightened and the metal clip sliced into my skin. Warmth dripped down my arm. Image after image surged behind my eyes. Everything hit me so hard I gasped, my body unsure of what to do. I couldn't make sense of what I was seeing, at first.

Some time ago, I had woken up on the floor to a research facility named Aegrimonia, with an unconscious person by my side. All the names, faces, voices of Grim unfolded in my mind like a blooming flower.

Over everything, the most I felt was him. My lips burned, and the feel of him pressed against my back made my skin tingle. My legs slowly gave way; the concrete was rough against my knees when I fell against it. Bruno, I thought. that's his name. Memories bled, melted over one another. Just moments earlier when we broke away from each other, and we'd said something. . . he began down the street. I remembered crying so hard. And it was so painful. I couldn't stand to watch him walk away any longer. With a shaky grip, I turned the doorknob and stepped inside. And then, I was falling.

My neighbor came out of her house with her hose in her hand, which she dropped screaming God's name as she went up to me writhing on the ground; half my body on the pavement and the other half in the grass and dirt of the lawn. I probably looked crazed. I felt like it. I was being torn from the inside out. I saw endless horizon, the reddish sand collecting on the truck, draping its grains over the paint and metal as Bruno and I made our escape from the inescapable.

The flames. I saw their fingers reaching for the gray sky. I felt the adrenaline, the fear, the fearlessness.

My neighbor was screaming for my mom while every atom in me was screaming for him. But he was already gone, disappeared down the road.

- - -

The sequel is finally here. Lol man, do I take long. Thank you guys so much for waiting. This will be updated randomly, unlike Reverie. I've found it so much easier for me to update on an unplanned day. (:

I hope you enjoy this as much as you did Reverie (or maybe even a lil more?).

Anyways, thank you for reading. I love you guys. Peace.