Save Me

Chapter Eight

A.N. Thought I'd update cos I have nothing else to do on my 20th Birthday (🎉🎉🎉) lmao. God getting old sucks.

Anyway. Things are probably going to be moving quickly after this chapter, so keep a look for updates and shit. I'm all over the place with this book right now, specifically its direction after what I've planned. I've got all my ideas but idk how I'm going to present them yet. I'll work it out though. Hope you guys are enjoying reading the last book in the series! And I hope it's living up to expectation. Vote and comment and all that jazz, xoxo, Clay.

♔ Chapter Eight ♔

The mirror stood in front of me, hanging from the wall in a black wooden frame. I couldn't find it in myself to look away from it. My reflection. I stared, and stared, and stared. I couldn't look away. My hair was slackened but spiky, and upturned everywhere. My eyes had never seemed so haunted in all my life. Through all the tears I'd let run down my face, through the burning ache I felt rushing through me, and through everything that I'd seen.

Some people might have gone insane, after living the life that I had, so why hadn't I?

And then I smiled, and laughed at myself, because I knew. Staring into my own eyes, and seeing something else entirely looking back at me, I knew. I was already insane. In the corner of the room, I thought I might have seen him again, but it was just the shadows, folding in on themselves as the curtains on my window billowed from the draft.

My brother was dead, and he'd been dead so long - why now? I asked myself. I didn't believe it. I knew it wasn't real. He was a figment of my fucked up imagination, a ghost returned to torment me, and well, he was succeeding. Every time I heard a small noise, every time I saw something move in the corner of my eye, I'd flash around erratically, only to find nothing. I was growing more and more paranoid by the minute.

My eyes moved back to the mirror, and for a second, I thought - I'd never looked so disturbed in all of my life. I was letting my brother get me. He'd been dead for over half of my life, and yet he still had some kind of sway over me. Every time I would look in the mirror, I'd see his face. That was the most awful thing about being a twin - even after one is gone, you can't escape them. Your own face was dripping in nostalgia and grief, a constant reminder of what's gone.

Suddenly, without even thinking, I slammed my fist into the mirror, and let the shattered shards smash against the floor. My knuckles gushed blood, but I didn't care. In fact, I was smiling. I could feel the warmth of the blood trickling over my fingers, and I could hear it dripping down onto the floor, splattering over the broken shards of the mirror.

I turned quickly and grabbed my phone, and decided I didn't care anymore. I scrolled down my contact list, and sat down on my bed, staring at his name.

Hedley Haynes.

Why did I like him?

In all my life, I'd never managed to find someone who actually understood, and I don't know, I got a feeling that he did. I'd seen it in his eyes, and in his games. I'd never felt more comfortable with someone before, like there was even the slightest possibility of being happy, and I knew it could be with him. I didn't want to waste the opportunity again. Third time's the charm, right?

So I clicked dial, and waited.

"Speak," Hedley answered. He'd answered the phone pretty fast too - only two rings, I'd counted.

"It's Isaac," I mouthed, dropping back over the crumpled bed-sheets hanging halfway off my mattress. I'd kept the lights off in my bedroom the last couple days, so only the dark surrounded me, trapped between the four walls.