Black Roses {Skephalo}

White Roses [Day Twenty-eight]

I'm alive
00:03 am

~~~

-Darryl's POV-

When I come to, I'm laying face down in the grass beside the river. I must not have been out long, but what I saw was weird.

Somehow, I ended up in a black void. I was in there for maybe ten minutes, and by the time I realised I wasn't at the river, I'd lost consciousness again.

Now I am at the river, like nothing ever happened. Slowly I get to my feet, looking around for the evil books. They're nowhere in sight, seeming to have disappeared completely.

Mud covers me from head to toe, over my face and down my backpack. Luckily my phone is ok, so I pull it out to check the time. Five past midnight, I should probably head back.

As I make my way back towards the path, my thoughts run wild with theories over what happened.

What was that?

Well at least those notebooks are gone...

I try to get off some of the mud, but only end up smearing it further into my clothes. The wall back to my house will take a while, I may have to stay at Zak's apartment instead.

So that's what I do, using the spare key I own to unlock the door and let myself in. It's awful to be back here, the place feels so empty without him waiting for me. Normally when I came over, I'd be greeted with a hug or kiss. Now I'm greeted by nothing, the empty room mocking me.

I shower and search for some spare clothes I left here a while back. The bills don't need to be payed until the end of the month, so the electricity and water still works.

Upon going to change, I notice something. There's marks over my chest, specifically over my heart. It's exactly where I was stabbed by those thorns, and they seem to have left their mark. There's eight lines, cut across my heart in a star shape. It reminds me of Zak's scars.

Despite trying not to, I end up throwing on one of Zak's hoodies again. Small steps away from him are what I need, but I can't help indulging myself by wearing his hoodies.

My phone starts ringing from the desk I left it on, and I presume it's Vincent wondering where I am. To my surprise it isn't, it's George.

When I answer the call, the other end is filled with shrieking.

"DARRYL HE'S ALIVE!" George screeches from the other end, a 'George put on your seatbelt!' yelled from behind. The voice is recognisable as Clay's.

I don't react in the slightest, completely convinced in going insane. "What?" I ask breathlessly, standing in the centre of Zak's room perfectly still.

"Darryl it's Zak! He's alive!"

~~~

-Zak's POV-

The main doors are locked, as I expected. My only option is to climb out through the vents, hoping that I can break through the covers.

Guess being small does have its' uses...

The office in which I stand is filled with an abundance of random things. Coffee mugs and photos, presumably belonging to the person who watches this side of the morgue.

There's also a collection of positive notes on one wall, which makes me smirk. Guess you need all the positivity you can get when you watch over dead bodies.

I search the room for anything I could use in place of a screwdriver. Instead I end up finding a paperclip, which should be able to pick the lock.