A disgusting, dangerous fight between right and wrong was happening in Noah's head Each side disguising itself as the other. His morals were skewed; his decision making skills entirely lost. One side of him wanted to run, to escape, to never set foot in this town again. Another side couldn't, no, wouldn't accept the fact that he was presented with a choice. A choice between his drugs...
Or Allister.
His fingers became antsy at his side, needing to grip the vial of euphoria. His mind searched for an answer for all of this. Why could Valerie see Allister? Did she know the whole time? Where did the vial come from? Was this a test? Is Allister dead?
The ramblings of his mind were silenced. Valerie looked towards Noah, the pupils and iris a pure white, matching her sclera. Although her expression reeked of mystery and nightmares, her smile still warmed even the coldest nights as she looked back down at Allister; his wounds healing right before their eyes.
"I was there as he fought the Wendigo." Her voice cut the tension in half, paving way for Noah to waltz straight into the situation and out of his mind.
His silence asked for more.
"Elowen and I were watching through the trees. All Allister had was his dagger, a broken bow, three arrows, and a hell of a lot of hope. It's head blended into the ground; the antlers looked like a dead bush. He didn't mean to break one of his branches as he walked." She paused to sigh, recalling the memory in every detail. "The Wendigo came onto him strong, angry, but Allister had only one thought; survive."
"How did he die?" Noah's voice cracked as he interrupted her story, the pain of not knowing killing him.
"Because you weren't there." Her eyes traveled back to his with every word, their unfocused glaze disappearing.
Noah opened his mouth to refute such a claim, but all it took was a moment of pondering to realize how painfully right she was.
As if on cue, Allister lazily rolled his head toward Noah, his expression apathetic. He bore into him with those dead eyes. They looked borderline alive, which made the guilt a hundred times worse.
"I doubt you remember, but I came up with this theory for how to fight Wendigos." Allister's voice scratched the layer of tension still in the room. "It involves two people, one on the left, the other on the right." He attempted to get up during his explanation, but fell back onto the table with a sigh. "If those two people shrieked at the same time, the Wendigo's ears would bleed and it'd go deaf. Then an arrow to the eye or neck would've done the trick." Allister shut his eyes for a moment, his head lulling back to its original place parallel to the ceiling. He was mulling over his theory for a moment; a theory which took extensive research.
Countless hours of studying and researching Noah could've been there for.
Allister opened his eyes again, tears threatening to form in his eyes. He stayed in his thoughts for a beat longer, before letting them free. "We were supposed to shriek at the same time. I needed you." Allister successfully got up this time, sitting up as silent Valerie held his shoulder in a supportive way. "I needed you." He accused, letting his tears fall. "I, your best, and only, friend! I needed you there, but you never showed up at the train station. You never wrote in the weeks after your disappearance. You left me in the dark for some girl who fucking hates you!" He shouted, his voice enraged and his breath raggedy.
Normally, Noah would've screamed back; his own emotions would've taken control. But everything he heard was completely true. Deep down Noah knew it, he knew how shitty of a human being he was, but the trap of self pity and self loathing was one too hard to escape from. He looked to Allister, then to Valerie, then back to Allister. He uttered the only thing he could think of at that moment.
"Hated."
"What?" Allister questioned, his emotions rapidly changing and mellowing down.
"She...hated me. Past tense." He could barely recognize his own voice, the vulnerability too much to handle.
"'Past tense'? What do you mean 'past tense'? Who gives a bloody fuck what tense it's in-" Valerie gave him a knowing, yet startling squeeze on his shoulder, her previous touch nothing more then the delicate feel of a butterflies feet.
Allister inhales deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he exhales. Noah searches his face for any more empathy, any more hope. An ounce of love and attention from one of the only few people who could ever care about him.
After seeing the daggers he glared at Noah, a chunk of hope in Noah's heart shriveled up and died a slow, painful death.
"Oh, so now you tell me Ashlynn's dead?" Allister raised his voice, shaking Valerie's touch off of him. "Now, when you need me to brush off the fact you fucking killed me, now you tell me?" He laughs humorlessly, smacking his head. "This would've really benefited you, you sad lonely fuck." He gets up off the table, approaching Noah. "I'm sick of your fucking games. I'm sick of you manipulating me. I'm sick of having to dismiss any bad thing you've ever done."
Noah retreats backwards, searching both his mind and Valerie's stone face for a response. "Al, please-"
"Don't you 'please' me!" He shouts in his face. Even though he's a few inches shorter than Noah's lanky frame, he still towers over him with the beast brewing inside. He takes one more step towards him, his voice dangerously low. "Did Ashlynn ever love you?"
Noah's face contorted for a moment, but Allister takes a step back as he laughs painfully. "No, she didn't. Who could even love you, anyway?"
Who could even love you, anyway?
His comment stuck a million needles into the barely stitched wound of Noah's mind. His expression turned cold; dead. He was ready to argue back, to stab his friend again, but as he opened his mouth, a warm feeling of a familiar container entered his grip.
His one and only, his beloved, his only source of happiness.
His fairy bones.
His Ashlynn.
He looked up to Allister, his face forming all sorts of regret, before looking back to the vial. It was different this time; the vial was bigger and had this aroma of pure intoxication. The aroma of his beloved. He uncorked the vial, taking a whiff of it from the source.
He formed a sickly grin as his head shot back up to Allister.
"She loves me. She loves me so much she let me keep and burn her dead body. She loves me so much she let me use the ashes. I love her so much she can see me whenever she wants." He shows the opened vial to Allister, as if it wasn't clear enough.
"I have her!" He shouts, laughing boisterously. "I've always had her! She's mine. She's mine."
He lifts the bottle to his nostril, both Valerie's and Allister's voices becoming nothing but white noise.
"She's mine." He says in a tone of realization. As if Ashlynn was nothing more than a figment to keep him sane. He kicks oncoming Allister in the stomach before inhaling the entire vial straight into his brain. He smiles as the euphoria quickly kicks in, seeing her face before his head hardly colliding with the floor.
YOU ARE READING
All I Have Are the Stars
Fantasy"'I tell the stars about you' Ashlynn broke the silence after they had both been staring at the sky for an ungodly amount of time." Nothing has ever gone right for Noah, it never has. The only time he's had hope was when Ashlynn, his beloved, was st...
