𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐀 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

XLVI

It was January thirteen, 2033–ten years after the tragic fire at Birch Hospital. The news was playing at the casino, the big screen showing a memorial made for the victims. Xander rolled his eyes before downing the last of his bourbon and placing a few hundred for the bill. Before he left the place, he stretched his right arm out, staring at the burn scars that had started to fade over time. Xander could only hope the scars in his mind would fade, too. But he knew it wouldn't; it was always fresh.

He was about to leave the place before his eyes caught on two kids in the lobby, their parents in a meeting. The girl had brown hair and green eyes, and the boy had black hair and blue eyes. They sit across from each other in the lobby, and he's staring at her with eyes so wide with an emotion he just couldn't put his finger on. "Do I know you?" She asks him, voice soft.

The boy fumbles with his fingers, shaking his head. "I think I'd remember you." Heat floods her face and they begin to talk, bickering about something.

It's nothing.

It's a small interaction.

A small interaction between two kids.

Two random kids he didn't know, that he's never even seen before, and will probably never see again.

It happens all the time, everywhere, all around the world.

It's something completely normal, something completely ordinary.

And yet—Xander couldn't help but watch them, couldn't help but remember his old friends. "Unbelievable," he mutters under his breath, shaking his head slightly. "They never change."

And then he opens up the book in his hands, reading it again, something he's done so much over the years that he memorizes every word by heart.

My name is Jane Ivers.
I shouldn't be writing this, but I'm doing this to document-to look back on someday, if I ever forget myself, if I ever let myself believe I made this all up.
This journal I use to escape my insanity could potentially incriminate me, but oh well.
It all started Monday, September twelfth......

the end.
or is it?