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Shane = Bold
Cleo = Italics
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"I'm here."
"You're going to have to be more specific than that Super-girl. For all I know 'here' could mean on the moon."
"I'm here. At the train station."
"Thank- you. Now, where are you?"
"I just told you Lost Boy, at the train station."
"You're going to have to narrow it down a bit if I'm going to find you."
"Oh hell no."
"What?"
"You are not coming to find me. I am coming to find you."
"Wha-why?"
"You're a famous person remember?"
"Well, yeah b-"
"No. Okay, just no. Stay in what ever hiding place you're in and I'll come and find you."
"Bu-"
"No buts. Where are you?"
"I'm in a dark corner just by the side of-"
"Costa?"
"...yeah. How did you know?"
"If you happen to be wearing a black hoodie and are slouched against a wall in a classic grumpy teenager manner than I do believe that I can see you."
"What? No-you can't. You can't see me. That's impossible."
"No it isn't."
"Then how come no one else saw me?"
"Because people see what they want to see."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That I was the only one looking for you."
YOU ARE READING
Suicide Helpline
Teen Fiction❝In which a celebrity dials a random number in hope of finding one last thing to make him smile before he commits suicide at the end of the month.❞ "I'm going to commit suicide in one months time." "I think you have the wrong number." "It can't be t...
