Gone

.

He sat, watching as the blink on his phone came closer.

She was up and moving. He wondered if he should go. Maybe the reception had cut out. Maybe she was fine.

His stomach turned at the memory of the phone call. Her sudden screaming.

"Just... be careful," He told her, brows furrowed. He rubbed the smooth metal of a fork between his fingers as the silence of a few seconds seemed like hours.

"I'll be fine. I can-"

Screams. His heart dropped, beating like a madman.

"What's wrong?!" He called her name, begging her to answer but the other end went silent. No one hung up but there was a thump on the other end. Did the phone fall?

The tracker blink was something to focus on at least. Even if she said she was fine something must have happened. She wasn't returning his calls.

He turned, looking into the crowd. The phone was near now. She was just to his right.

But she was nowhere. Face after face was not her. The blink was on top of him now. Someone passed the bartender a phone. He went pale.

The bartender sighed, looking it over. They looked up, showing it to him.

He'd seen that phone before. He'd seen the cracked corners of her nervousness. The glue he'd gotten for her trying to hold what cracks together that it could.

He also saw the fairy trick that had been cast on it. One of the stupid smell identifiers passed around for laughs and gags. It's neon green circles sat on the screen, three eyes staring at him, cold as Pluto. He nodded and the bartender gently gave him the phone.

They explained it must have come from deeper down the hall. Somehow he heard through all the noise rushing through his head. He thanked the old friend, if you could call them that, and rushed through the other party-goers. Elbows caught him constantly as he squeezed through, bending over and stretching to look through every door. Some he had to peek into or knock and hope she really wasn't there.

His gut had told him to keep going. Eventually, he found the dark door, closed tight. He knocked, calling for her. No answer.

He swung the door and froze, his lungs finally releasing the breath they'd been holding so tight. It turned the short pants into a long sigh of relief.

She lay on the bed the wrong way, hair splayed. He closed the door, walking over. For a moment he just watched as her chest rose and fell. She was alive.

She seemed unbothered by anyone after the rough landing he'd heard. He looked at her phone and loosened his grip, letting the color go back to his fingers and putting it in his bag. He got her onto her back.

Her lips were parted. He shook his head. She'd be thirsty when she woke up, she always was when she breathed through her mouth as she slept.

He'd take a moment to calm down. To watch her be alive and calm his fears. Hopefully, this wouldn't haunt him tonight. He'd just watch her for a moment and then wake her, taking her out of here.

She'd complain and he'd get her a drink before rushing her off to get checked on. She wouldn't go to a hospital and for once he agreed, they weren't experienced in the unnatural. He'd drive her to their friends and she'd complain about her head and explain what happened. The other members of their party will be called and they'll rush over, one calm, one just as worried as he'd been. And they too would see she is breathing.

That she is alive.

***

This was actually a dream I had that I felt needed to be written out. It's obviously been changed a bit so it makes sense but hopefully, you enjoyed it. Also, the pronouns are more to keep the characters separated than anything else bc I purposefully didn't want to use names.

What did you think? Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! It would mean a ton to me!