you cannot reach this number ʳᵃⁿᵇᵒᵒ

11

ARC 2 WILL BE ENTIRELY IN RANBOO'S POV.

ENJOY.

its sad, y'know? depressing, even.

the usual comfort of a small petite girl, arms tightly wrapped around my waist was gone, as has been gone for weeks.

twitter was the worst place to be, in my opinion. it was the 14th of december, the usual #nationalcoralineday content was pasted along my timeline, like it is every month.

i chucked my phone to the other side of the bed with a small wince. she was gone and there was nothing i could do of it.

realistically, looking for her was out of the question. the large withdrawl that was made from my bank account the night of her disappearance meant coraline delacruz could be anywhere. she could be across the world by now, living it up in new zealand.

god i hope shes "living it up" right now.

she could be dead. i could go for my daily search and find her in a ditch next to the freeway. the image of her lifeless, mangled corpse crossed my mind, causing tears to slip down my face.

despite my emotions and thoughts being a jumbled mess, i pulled myself together, and got out of bed.

☹ ' , —

maybe it was the constant dread of seeing the love of my life's dead body, or the constant dread of never seeing the love of my life ever again, but today i couldn't bring myself to go out and search.

the search party (made up of the kind souls of the community i resided in) was fine without me. i couldn't bare to step outside of my house.

this, apparently, was in the distaste of ford.

ever since coraline's disappearance, it was nothing but radio silence from her best friend. it wasn't until today that they decided to make an appearance.

"you've got to be fucking kidding me," the front door of my home swung open, a stout individual standing in the frame.

"wh-what?"

"you didn't even come to the search party today?" they slammed the heavy wood behind them, "god you're such a horrible boyfriend, aren't you?"

i stayed silent, words unable to form in my throat.  guilt built up inside of me, adding onto the already mountainous pile that resided in my gut.

"fucking respond, dammit!" they yelled.

"listen, ford im sorry. i've gone every day so far— i just— i cant—"

"ranboo you dont fucking understand. i get it. whatever you're girlfriend is missing. do you know how hard it is with the fact that ive almost lost her before? she has almost died in front of my fucking house and i called the ambulance. what did you do? nothing. you sat there and watched as she got those fucking DISGUSTING messages."

"i— i didn't know—!"

"fucking bullshit. you get hate too. she gets it worse because news flash! people hate women! of course,
the comments weren't the only thing, they only added fuel to the fire, huh?"

i looked down, allowing myself to get scolded. i deserved it, after all.

"she was in a mixed state, right? from her bipolar disorder? ranboo, she fucking ran away from you."

"no— she could have been—"

"SHE LEFT YOU A FUCKING NOTE."

"someone could have forged her hand writing! ford please—"

"no! you try your best to convince yourself she didn't run away but you know it deep down dont you?"

i gulped, they continued.

"isn't it just eating you up inside?"

"the face that YOU made her leave?"

"please just... leave me alone."

it was the 14th of december.
it was her day.

01110011 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100011 01101111 01110101 01101100 01100100 00100000 01100010 01100101 00100000 01100001 01101110 01111001 01110111 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110000 01101111 01101001 01101110 01110100