Phases Eight

Phase 34 Dead men tell no tales

The solution unravelled poignantly like a Christmas gift invoking excitement and mystery to flutter Amelia's meek heart.

Jake read the inscription over the stone that shattered the window and got tangled in perplexion. Amy needn't be informed of its contents for she perceived the plan formulated. She recognised the person who made the plan as a incredible genius.

The person had a special killer modus operandi to make her feel guilty for losing her memories, losing the people whom she loved, and finally drain out the last drop of courage till it could constrict her throat, taking her last breath away.

Amelia's only traumatising memory was losing everyone she loved and have no justification for it . But her life wasn't about justifying. Whether she moved along with the tide or not, she got calloused in either way.

She too craved for the answers. The answer for what made her to be her current self - deranged, broken, wiped out of any interest to live. Why did she live? Just because everyone lived? She could've bled to death when her wrist was slit in the plane, she could've suffocated to death when she plunged down the pool. Instead, she annoyingly survived.

Each and every time when the pain devoured everything inside her, the voices of her phases gave the pain more to eat so that it could bite off more than it can chew.

Now, a voice was less. Charlie was gone. Slowly the loneliness began to nibble into her spine. At least when the D.R.E.A.M was in her pursuit, she had many haters thinking round the clock to come up with fantastic plans to bring her down. Looking back, those felt like the good old days. Having hundreds of haters was better than having no one to love.

Hiding was worse than Marijuana. It can make you feel high, but once you are apart from the world's eyes, it swallows you and digests you into the depth of darkness.

She realised her mistake. She shouldn't have run away when her presence was the most needed. She must've guided the investigation of Luciana's murder and prevented Mark from being killed. The person who broke the window cunningly cornered her like a hyena hunting its prey.

Of all people who could help her at the moment, she thought about Leo- the ludicrous and clumsy junk of her mind that was a pathetic excuse for a reincarnation of her brother.

'Leo, my brother, I need your help' she whispered softly so that Jake wouldn't listen.

"Looks like the work of the kids in the neighbourhood." lied Jake with a pretending snort, "Nothing has been broken except the window. Watch out for the broken glass."

"Haha.. And I'm the Easter Bunny riding the sleigh because Santa Claus had a fit of jet lag." scoffed Leo.

Leo? How could that douchebag come here?

Amy's head jerked to her right and that was where she saw Leo in flesh and bone. Uh.. Scratch that. If illusions had flesh and bones, maybe you can have the previous statement without scratching.

"The coolest Hamilton to save the day!" he cheered with a unusual high pitched voice. She checked whether Jake could listen to him but he was indifferent to them.

Amy knew Leo was no threat, even though her feet grew cold, stuck to the floor like on ice. She never had a direct encounter with Leo. She knew she gave birth to a MJ fanatic, a full time freak who self named himself as Leo but she never met him, not even once from day one he was created.

Imagine meeting your favourite celebrity up close, this time in flesh and bone. Imagine the awe and excitement that would pump through your blood vessels. Your retina only reflects the face which you've been day dreaming to see your entire life. Your heart thumps mad and nothing could beat your stomach at the moment, churning more than a food processor, mixing up sanity with craziness and intensity.