Book #2 in the "Drug-Laced" series
After the "murder" of his best friend, Harrison is sent to a mental facility but doesn't last long inside after discovering his trace wasn't exactly clean, and Tom is still very much alive. With the certainty Tom w...
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Zendaya
A loud shriek tore through the grave silence as the coffin flew open, the lid crashing against the side of it. I gasped in disbelief, the sounds of punctured coughing and wheezing, which belonged to Tom, filled my ears. His pale hand grasped the edge of the coffin, trying to pull himself up, which didn't help what I was seeing either. It was as if I was living a zombie apocalypse movie, but I knew surely well Tom wasn't a zombie.
I stumbled back, scared and confused, hot streaks of tears racing down my cheeks as my legs scuffled behind me in a panic to get away. It became almost difficult for me to move from my body shaking so intensively. Chills raced down my body from both fear and a cold sweat. Hot, aggressive air punched through my quivering lips as I began hyperventilating, Tom's paled, dead expression from just seconds ago engraved into my mind.
"Zendaya! Wait!" A raspy voice called, followed by Tom's head quickly poking out from the coffin when he finally caught his breaths.
His face appeared dry and white like a loose-leaf paper but still seemed clean, as if his face had been washed but dried quickly after. The very light tan color his skin held before was washed with a snowy complexion. His face had thinned, his facial bones outlining themselves against his skin as if he hadn't consumed any food in weeks, or months. His brown curls glimmered even with the sun hiding behind the storm clouds, looking as if it had been greased over millions of times just to get it to stay in place. The rest of his exposed body appeared to look the same as his face, but not as dry. His lips formed dead, white peeling skin that hung like tiny, short, thick strings from his lips. It was almost as he was still dead but his body and spirit carried on somehow. Alive and dead at the same time.
"No, no, this can't be real!" I cried, holding my head in my hands and massaging my temples, convincing myself this was a figment of my imagination and grief. I held my eyes shut tightly, trying to close myself off from the world for a moment. I knew it was real but I didn't want it to be. As much as I missed Tom, whatever illusion my mind was creating, I refused to feed into it.
I zoned out for a few short seconds, flashes of Tom's lifeless body on his hospital bed littering my mind. No matter how hard I pressed my eyelids together, tears still escaped, each tear track cooling quickly after they fell from my face.
I was snapped out of my trance when I felt two cold, dry hands wrap around mine, causing me to gasp and jump back in fear. It was Tom, his brown eyes washing with life again as he locked them with mine, tears of desperation soaking his pale face. It reminded me of the first time I knew I felt something for him, but this time, it had a depressing mask over it. A happy and sad moment at the same time.
"Daya, it's me, this is real. I understand you're scared and you think this is some mask from reality, but I'm here, and if you don't get me help soon, I'll actually be gone."
I took moment to soak in what he had said, finally coming to the realization that this was real and Tom's survival now depended on me. Weakly, I nodded, tossing Tom's arm over my shoulder and wrapping my arm around his waist, quickly leading him to my car.
