With a shiver in the air and a soul that felt lost and vacant, Tandy was alone and petrified. Unable to turn back to the place she once considered home, Tandy rode back to the desolate church she had known all too well with the limited supply of gas the car had to offer. Part of her wanted to feel bad for stealing, knowing there were some less lucky than her, but she also knew it was always and will always be a game of survival, or more so: survival of the fittest. Tonight was exceptionally lonely for her, and no matter how much she drank or tried to overdose, nothing could fill the darkness she felt in the very core of her heart. She stumbled through the rubble of her "home", too intoxicated to climb or even walk straight. Sure, she had Tyrone's phone number, but she knew enough about him already. She knew he was probably doing just what his parents demanded of him: homework and vigorous training for basketball. Even with her newfound power, all the happiness Tandy had seen, she still couldn't find her own happiness. Everywhere she ran, she felt unwelcome and an outcast. But tonight, that was going to change. She had her finger on the trigger, and one bullet in the gun. I don't have anything left to lose, she told herself.
"So what's the point?" She cried, tears stinging the open wound she had on her face from earlier, in which she was fought when she stole food from a local gas station.
She was sick and tired of fighting for everything in her life. Nothing was easy, and she felt nothing ever would be. Knowing that her last attempt of drowning herself hadn't worked due to her daggers, she prayed that her powers wouldn't interfere again. Spinning the revolver and gasping for breaths in between each mournful cry, a sudden glow emitted from her bag—from her phone.
Ty
Hey Tandy, is everything alright? We haven't talked in a while, and I don't know how to explain it, but something doesn't feel right. Get back to me A.S.A.P.
"Sorry, Ty." Tandy choked, chucking her phone across the room.
Deciding yet another dose of Restoril would help ease her into a state of euphoria before defeating herself, Tandy shakily placed the gun down, reaching into the nearly empty pink bag, thanks to her mom and Greg, who she had surprisingly began to like before he was shot in the head. The world was spinning it seemed, between the effects of the drugs and the constant dinging of her phone, which she knew was Tyrone. She hadn't known the last time anyone else had texted her besides her mother, but it was never out of love and concern for her. As much as Tandy hated to admit it, Tyrone was the only person she had met who made her feel like she was worth something. They were the divine pairing, after all. Something in Tandy's mind wanted to scream that her powers meant something, that all that had happened in the past months was a sign of something bigger to come; something bigger than both her and Tyrone, and only together could they defeat it. She didn't want to leave Tyrone by himself; she knew it would devastate him. And though Tyrone had never exactly told Tandy that he needed to feed off her light to keep himself under control, she knew it was so. They kept each other at peace, and were so inevitably lost with and without each other. The more Tandy thought about it, the less courage she had. Breaking down, she pulled the baggy black sweatshirt around her tighter than before, forcing her phone into her jean pocket and sprinting out of the church to the only other sanctuary she knew.
Tyrone was pacing his bedroom, knowing something was wrong the moment he had gotten home from school. He and Tandy hadn't talked much that week, if at all. He felt distant, but he could always since her presence and her fears. But this time, he felt like it was screaming at him. Tyrone was never worried because whenever he got such a feeling, he was always able to transport himself to Tandy, but not this time; he didn't know why. For the first time in months, Tyrone felt panicked and alone. Tyrone gasped as he heard his doorknob turn, his mother entering the room abruptly.
