❝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...
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Cleo heard the footsteps. They were muted, almost as if she had stuck her head underwater. Something was telling her that she was in terrible shape. That she needed to find a solution to this, quickly. Yet, her mind had been in shut-down for too long now. She was absent from the world, almost as if her mind was so terrified of the earth and everyone in it that it hid inside itself.
She couldn't feel anything apart from her thoughts.
They weren't the nicest things to be around.
Somehow the footsteps were louder than everything else. Maybe it was exhaustion that caused her to fall against the door of the locker. Perhaps it had been her subconscious screaming for help from the anonymous footsteps.
Whatever the case was, she did fall against the locker door. Just in time for him to catch her as she fell.
