The Vial

EIGHT

News

I gasped.

My blood gone cold as I feel goosebumps crawl fast from the bottom of my spine up to the pit of my neck. My eyes widen in disbelief.

"N-No... I swear, I know what's written! It's—it's not this—" I covered my mouth with my hand, realizing that it has the same handwriting of Elliott. And that signature. There is no way anyone can tamper his clean handwriting. Which only means... he wrote this?

But how?

"Maybe he wrote that," Janice echoed my thoughts. "Uh, in a second paper with the previous one or—something? You might have forgotten checking on that or—I don't know. You often forget things nowadays." She sighed.

"No... I mean, yeah I might be forgetful sometimes but I know and I am sure—this is not the message. This can't be possible," I scowled at the piece of paper that seemed to be a bad thing that I'm holding. And I thought of something even weirder. "There's no way he replied through this paper."

"What?"

"I thought he might have changed what is written here when we were out waiting and—I-I don't know," I stammer, feeling the defeat of saying anything that would make sense. Because everything just doesn't make sense at all.

"That's stupid! How will he do that?" She asked in a louder voice, as if already shouting at me saying, shut up you're freaking me out!

We have the same question—How did he do this? And to be honest, it is also freaking me out now.

Plus, the feeling of holding this tiny bottle that is even colder now which I don't know how it became like that. I'm not even sure if it's the bottle or my hand that is cold because apparently I'm a little shaky and nervous.

I don't know how all of these strange things happened in just one day.

In my mind, I recalled that it all started when Elliott gave me this vial. And that strange contact with Chad. Now, this sudden change of message in the paper that was inside of this vial.

What the hell is going on?

I just gone silent. I don't know what to say to Janice because I, myself have no idea what just happened here. Everything is freaking me out more and more whenever I think of them.

I almost think he sneaked inside my room. But... No way. He doesn't seem that kind of person.

I thought of far weirder stuff like if he's a jumper—who goes wherever, like in my room in just a minute and disappears that fast. Or a vampire or—a werewolf?

Ugh. Thinking weird things about him makes me weird in return. It should be lame to think that way to him but... Oh, geez. How will I know?

I decided to calm myself, and recover all my nerves of normal things nd thoughts. I don't want to think of Elliott in such a bad way even if he let us wait for almost half an hour. He's been so kind to me and helped a lot of times that it's just hard to forget.

I glance again at the paper for a couple of seconds and decided to keep it again. I rolled the white paper back to its fragile container.

I gulp. "We shall ask Elliott—everything," I frowned at the fact that if we text him, well, I don't have his number. "Do you have his mobile number? Or telephone, whichever,"

"No, duh. We're not that close," she replied with a straight face.

"Oh... okay. Maybe tomorow," I sighed, controlled of letting any emotions of mine to pop out. I just suddenly felt cold. The vial should be so contagious.