An aspiring eighteen-year-old author realizes she is a character in an unwritten horror novel and must use her storytelling knowledge to survive.
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Eighteen-year-old romance writer, I...
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There we were, sitting in the car in the middle of the Ayahuasca forest, surrounded by creepy pine trees and eerie fog. Atem had turned the car and headlights off to reserve the battery. I didn't fuss. It wasn't like we were going anywhere soon.
My eyes constantly scanned the surrounding forest, looking up in the trees for swaying and bounded bodies. Anticipation rose with every howl of the wind and the snap of a twig. Causing each of us to twist and turn in our seats to meet any threats head on.
"We can't just sit here all night." Atem finally broke the silence.
"I agree, but we don't have a choice either," I pointed out.
Zeke slumped in the backseat beside me, resting and occasionally rubbing the rope burned parts of his neck. He had been quiet since the hanging, not attempting to talk or even defend himself when the notebook exposed his betrayal.
The wound on Felicity's head finally stopped bleeding, although she lost a lot of blood. She, too, seemed drained of energy and rarely moved in her seat. "Ima?" She grunted and groaned. "I'm sorry." She didn't move, but the way her words slurred told me she wasn't doing well. "I'm not an asshole, I swear. It's just... I was lonely and stupid and... No excuse. I'm sorry. I'm sure Zeke is sorry, too."
As she spoke, I looked over at Zeke. The bright moon highlighted the shame written on his face and in his miserable puppy dog eyes. He slowly nodded, agreeing. Even though they apologized, it didn't create a sense of ease. In fact, anger surged through me at the fact that they waited until the notebook outed them for either of them to come clean.
"So obviously it wasn't James you were going to see that night of the accident, huh?" I tried to hold in my anger and keep from yelling my words.
"No." Felicity confirmed. "No, it wasn't James."
"So, you guys been fucking around since then? Before then?" I shook my head, looking back and forth between the two. Zeke was silent because of his injury, but a part of me believed he was glad he couldn't speak, so that I couldn't force him to answer my questions. "How long were you hoping to keep this a secret? I bet you enjoyed stringing me along, pretending to have my best interest at heart, pretending to love me?"
Felicity didn't explain or say much other than another, "I'm sorry."
"Whatever." I shook my head and folded my arms over my chest, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I guess all that doesn't matter, anyway. Me and Felicity haven't really been that close. And our breakup was inevitable, right, Zeke? I could tell we didn't really want to be together. I just wish you would've called it off before you slept with our so-called friend."
Even though Felicity's cheeks glistened with tears, she refused to speak. It all reminded me of the betrayal I faced as a child. First from my parents, then from my beloved brother, and now from my friends. The urge to scream bubbled up, but like many of those unpleasant emotions, I bottled it up and ignored it.
