Hell on Earth

Chapter Seven - Heart to Heart

Cynthia and Jonathan ran in circles. They just didn't understand how someone could disappear like that.

"Nancy!" Cynthia yelled. "Where are you?" She heard Jonathan's screams followed by Nancy's voice. She was so close. Why couldn't they see her.

"Nancy!" Cynthia yelled.

Cynthia and Jonathan ran face first into each other. They were right back were they started.

"Where are you?" Jonathan screamed.

"I'm right here," Nancy's voice was faint. "Jonathan! Cynthia!"

"We're right here!" Cynthia yelled.

"Follow my voice, Nancy!" Jonathan yelled. "We're right here!"

"Come on, Nancy!" Cynthia screamed. "We're right here!"

"Jonathan!" Nancy screamed. "Cynthia."

"She sounds closer," Cynthia said, but Jonathan wasn't listening to her. He was kneeling in front of a tree. It looked different and slimy.

"What's that?" Cynthia asked.

"I don't know," Jonathan said. The bark was starting to grow over the slimy spot.

Then, Nancy's gloved hand broke through the barrier, "Jonathan!"

"Nancy!" Jonathan exclaimed.

He grabbed her hand. Cynthia threw down her machete and grabbed onto her arm. Both of them were pulling with all their might. The tugged as hard as they could. Nancy came falling out of the goo that was the tree. She landed right on top of Jonathan.

"I got you," Jonathan held her tightly.

Nancy didn't say anything. She just cried.

They made their way back to the Wheeler house. Nancy was silent the entire way there. The Wheelers were still out of the house, so they all just made their way up the stairs. Nancy went to the shower while Cynthia and Jonathan waited in her room.

"It feels like forever since I've been in this room," Cynthia muttered as she looked around.

"Why do you never want to talk about why the two you stopped hanging out?" Jonathan asked.

"Because I'm scared it will ruin the life I've built here," Cynthia looked at the photos on Nancy's cork board. "And it's going to make me look back on some unhappy memories. Some things are just better left unsaid."

The pair sat on the bed as Nancy came in.

"Is this okay?" Jonathan asked to the small bed he made on the ground. "I found it in the closet. I can go home. I just figured..."

"Yeah, no," Nancy stuttered. "I don't want to be alone."

"I hope you don't mind that I made a little bed on the floor," Cynthia laid down and curled up on the floor.

"Not at all," Nancy said. "You look comfortable." She looked at Jonathan. "You look miserable. Can you just come up here?"

"Yeah," Jonathan got onto the bed. "Do you want the lights off or..."

"On," Nancy said.

"You know it can't get us in here," Jonathan tried to comfort her.

Nancy wasn't having any of it, "You don't know that."

Everyone tried to drift off to sleep, but there was too much tension in the air. After a while, Cynthia could hear Jonathan's snores. She closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep, but it didn't work. She tried for an hour before she sat up. To her surprise, Nancy was looking straight at her.

"Why did you pull away from me the summer before we started high school, Cynthia?" Nancy asked. "We were so close before that summer."

"Nancy," Cynthia looked down at her lap. "I don't... I can't talk about it."

"Why not?" Nancy asked.

"Because I'm scared you'll be disgusted by me and never want to hang out with me again," Cynthia admitted. "Not to mention the fact the one time someone found out about my secret, it didn't end well."

"I just want you to let me in," Nancy said. "I miss us being friends."

"If I tell you," Cynthia looked at her. "You can't tell anyone. Not your mother, brother, boyfriend, or even Jonathan. Can you promise me that?"

"I can," Nancy nodded.

"When I was little kid, I had so many crushes," Cynthia started small. "I basically had one for everyday of the week. Some of them were boys, but some of them were girls. I thought I was jealous of them when I was younger, but I wasn't. I wanted to date them. I wanted to date them like I wanted to date boys. And then, I was in sixth grade, someone stole my notebook and found out because I had a story with two girls kissing. My life was a living hell until I moved here." She looked at Nancy. "I met you and I wasn't the girl who had no friends. When we grew up, and you started wanting to read my stories...."

"You were afraid the same thing would happen," Nancy finished.

"I was afraid you were going to out me, accuse me of having a crush on you, and every other horrible thing that ran through my mind," Cynthia said. "It was easier to lose your friendship by making you think we had grown apart rather than what I had dealt with."

"Thank you for trusting me with that," Nancy said. She grabbed your hand. "You never have to worry about me doing any of those things. We're best friends."

Cynthia had a huge smile plastered on her face, "You don't know how happy that makes me to hear that." Small tears dripped down her face. "That's why I don't like Harrington any much any more. He took my notebook and read through it. I'm scared."

"I'll talk to him," Nancy said. "I'll make sure he doesn't say anything to anyone."

"Thank you," Cynthia smiled at her.

"Were you lonely when you pulled away?" Nancy asked. "When did Jonathan and you become friends?"

"We became friends that same summer," Cynthia said. "He was just with Will one day, and we started talking. We were both quiet kids with oddball hobbies. We focused on our art before anything else. We became friends from there." Cynthia couldn't help but laugh. "Then, we hit high school and became the pervert and the loser."

"I shouldn't have said that in the woods," Nancy said. "I'm sorry."

"No harm, no foul," Cynthia said. "I'm kind of a loser: I have one friend that isn't my brother, I'm not cool by socialite means, and I pretty much hate most people. But it's fine, being a loser isn't an insult to me."

"I'm glad we're friends again," Nancy smiled at her. She finally let go of Cynthia's hand. "Maybe now I'll finally be able to read one of your stories."

"You can have your pick of the notebooks from the last year," Cynthia smiled as she laid down.

"Just the last year?" Nancy teased.

"Trust me, anything else is pure garbage," Cynthia closed her eyes. "A perk of keeping all of my old writing is seeing how far I've come from poorly written stories. Those ones are meant for my eyes and my eyes alone."

Nancy didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Cynthia was just glad that she had her friend back. It was a step towards getting back the confidence that had been stolen from her all those years ago. It was a small moment of victory, but it was a victory none the less.