~Ginger~
The sun bathed my skin, quickly warming me despite how cold I had been last night. I blinked the sleepiness out of my eyes and reached for my phone. 8:34, it read. Early, sure, but I wasn't about to complain. This was the fullest night of sleep I've gotten this month. I stretched and rolled out of bed - quite literally - and landed on the floor. Much as I didn't want to, I trudged upstairs. I knew Mom was making pancakes, and she'd be real suspicious if I didn't come get any.
"Hey, Ginger. You're up early," Mom greeted from the kitchen. The smell of bacon made me almost want to eat. Not that I'd have a choice; if I didn't eat something, Mom would shove it down my throat. I shrugged in response. I pulled out my phone as I sat at the breakfast bar, waiting for the food to be done.
"Say, it'll be another twenty minutes or so before these are done; I just started. Why don't you head outside for a bit? It's nice out. I'll call you in when breakfast is ready." I wanted to protest, but her tone made it clear I wouldn't get a chance to decide for myself. I slipped my phone into the pocket of my hoodie and stepped outside, the cool grass tickling my bare feet. I walked over to the treehouse. I hadn't been there in forever, but something pulled me there. After unrolling the ladder, I climbed up. As I pulled myself into the structure, I was pleased to see it was still intact. The smell of the surrounding pine trees gave me a sense of calmness, just as it always had. The energy of this place was odd; soothing, but odd. It was as if someone else was here. The thought of it sent shivers down my spine.
Ignoring my paranoia, I laid down on my back, staring up at the slanted ceiling. I saw the small scraping Chloe and I had made years ago. Our initials, G.G. and C.R. Things were so much better back then. Why couldn't they've stayed like that?
I sighed. "I miss you, Chlo," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes.
"I miss you too." My eyes widened. Was I officially going crazy? She's dead, she can't be talking to me. I shot up, wanting to believe the impossible. And right there, dangling her feet over the edge of the treehouse, was Chloe.
YOU ARE READING
Till Death Do Us Part
RomanceI..I did this to her. It was my fault. I could've stopped it, why didn't I stop it? Now she's... she's gone. And it's all my fault. A story of two friends, separated by a barrier neither is willing to fully cross. But love works in mysterious ways...
