Final destination: The End

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I wake up suddenly, my eyes blurry and my body still wet. I first notice the gentle breeze of the wind on my skin, and the feeling of grass against my body. I see the clouded blue of the blue sky, as I sit up.

I hear the distant laughter of children, and feel the rush of a headache that still panged in the back of my head. I rub my eyes, feeling the traces of henna crackle on my forearms.

I re-open them to see the details of my tattooed body, the symbols painted on my skin down to the slightest mark.

My eyes travel from my body to the grass. From the detailed marks in the ground to the pale white that is my house.

My house...

My house...

I'm....

I....

I'm normal sized!

And I'm home!

In one pice!

I nearly break down crying, I can't believe it! I'm home! I'm normal sized! I can see my family, my friends my-

Kyle...

My friends...

Wren...

Nina...

They're gone...

I'm in a different world now...

I can never see them again.

The thought rings in my mind as I step inside my house, as I step into the shower, as I scrub myself clean of the world I was once in. The henna comes off, but the traces of it are still visible on my skin. It still lingers as I sit down on my couch at the exact spot where I was taken to a different universe.

Every thought I have retraces back to Kyle, how he cared for me, how he saved me from that perv on the plane, how he didn't crush me the first time we met, ...how he kissed me in the rainforest.

I didn't even realize I was crying until I felt the tears drop onto my arm,  splashing onto the design Kyle delicately wrote onto my skin. It was weird. How he wrote numbers on my skin. What did it mean? A series of ten numbers on my arm with dashes in between every three-

A phone number.

It struck me like the first time I was seen.

Abruptly and without warning.

It came to me.

Kyle had written his phone number on my arm.


Kyle:

Bananas...

That was the first time I ever saw her...

Beating up a banana with a little piece of a plastic spoon...

I held the piece in my hand, fiddling with it between my fingers, it hadn't even been a week, since she was gone. But I already missed her...

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