Something More. Something Different

Chapter 1: Welcome to The Ferrier Express

Chapter 1: Welcome to The Ferrier Express

                                   Reiss

"This is so wrong." I muttered mostly to myself. I was sitting on the side of my bed, my hands on my head. I'm so confused. Should I do something?

There's your phone.

Go get it.

Call her.

Tell her what you saw.

Do your role as a friend. As her best friend.

What are you waiting for?

My subconscious is shouting at me. Screaming suggestions that I'm not even sure is helping me think rationally.

Forget about rationalizing. There is no time for that. Do the right thing and friggin' call her!

I want to pound on my subconscious and yell at it to stop. Friends, this is a great example of 'pressure'.

But then again, the phone is right over there. Just a few steps away. A few steps away from change. Change that's not  for the better.

Goddamn the world! Why? Why, out of all the seven billion people in the world, why was I the one who saw them? Ugh. This is harder than I thought. I'm not thinking clearly. I need to think clearly.

Call her already.

Aren't you supposed to be her best friend?

Yes. I am. I am her best friend.

Then go call her.

But that will ruin everything.

Hanna deserves to know.

But what about Paige? What will happen to her? Hanna's not the only one with the confused best friend

Think about that later. The important thing to do right now, is to come out and be honest.

But that-

Reiss, you are a smart person. You're supposed  to know how all of this is gonna affect everything.

Arrrgghhhh! I can't take it anymore. My subconscious is screaming at me. There's a riot inside my head and I think it's about to explode.

Explode.

Just explode already. Just explode already so that I'll be dead and I won't have to be in this position right now.

I need some fresh air.

NO you don't. What you need is to call Hanna and tell her everything.

Gaaaah! Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. I don't need my subconscious contradicting me. Are all subconscious like this? It's driving me nuts. It drives all of us nuts.

So just call her already.

I won't. I shouldn't. Because I can't. It's way too complex. I know Hanna and she knows me better than I know myself so if she sense something a bit odd about me(like sweating profusely, acting paranoid and panicky, being jumpy, etc) she'll know something is wrong and my jig is up. Just like that. In a snap.

That's the point. She's supposed to know.

But I'm not suited for that kind of confrontation. I know that most of the times I appear to be calm and composed but in reality, my stress level is losing it. I just don't show it.

I paced around the room. Darting my eyes from corner to corner. Anywhere. Just don't stare at the phone or it'll control you and make you do unforgivable things.

My eyes landed on the picture frame on my nightstand. It's a photo of me, Paige and Hanna. We were still in sixth year when the photo was taken. We all had childish grins on our faces and we don't appear to be having issues back then. Certain issues. I still had the dark brown hair, my glasses were askew and I was wearing my favorite Disneyland top. Paige's jet black hair was a mess and she was raising both her hands up in the air. And Hanna still had long sunshine blonde hair and a few strands were caught in the wind.

Huck! (my combination of 'hell' and 'fuck'). Really? This is not the time to go down Memory Lane. Ugh.

Reiss...just call her. Tell her. You know it's the right thing.

Okay.

Maybe my psycho subconscious do have a point. Maybe its pyschotic rants aren't that pyschotic after all. Maybe it's right.

Let's just get this over with.

I went over to my bed and pulled my phone closer. I dialed Hanna's number with trembling hands.

This is it.

Wish me luck.

A/N: Guys, okay I know it's a short chapter, trust me I'm aware of that, it's just that I'm in the mood to be a lazyass so I'm sorry if that affected my writing. But do not fear, I will make the following chapters longer. Yeah, because that's what you all want right? Lol. Anyways I gotta go. Have a good day, tata.

Peace and Peanut Butter,
Honey

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