room 207 | shyland ✓

twenty two

ryland's pov
• the final chapter

later that day, after running home from school and heading straight into my room, i ignored my mom's shouts as to how my final exam went and threw myself onto my bed. sobs stole my ability to breathe as i hiccuped and gasped for air, muffling my cries with my pillow as i thrashed around in frustration, my mind casually strolling into overdrive as though it were a walk in the park.

gone.
chapter closed.
pen down.

that was it for shane and i, and although for the last six months i've been so desperately searching for the end to our story, this one just seems far too final.

my sleep that night was restless and short lived, and at a quarter past midnight i jolted a wake in a cold sweat with an uneasy feeling sat in the pit of my stomach. i'd been dreaming, something that in the last year or two i'd grown out of - or so i had thought. it was the kind of dream that made you pinch yourself. the kind of dream that, for the first few split seconds that your mind is awake, you think that every single fibre of your imagination was real life. that adrenaline rush happens; just like when you drop from the top of a roller coaster, except your whole body feels like it's being dragged six feet under.

this particular dream was set in a darkened room, with an ambiguous figure stood in the centre, his face disguised with one of those sickening anonymous masks from scream. his two arms held limp objects, and initially it was almost as though i didn't have my glasses on. the whole scene, albeit his face, was a blur that made my head spin. the more i squinted, the foggier everything got, until suddenly my vision shifted into a clear view. almost too clear.

in his left fist was a squirming body, dressed in all black, it's face constantly shifting from one person to another. first it was my mother, then my father, then austin and then morgan, and then this was repeated all over again. my mind was burning as i screwed my eyes closed and opened them again, before falling back on the changing face. everything lead to me realising that this was all just a figment of my imagination, yet something about the eeriness of the whole setting sent the hairs on the back of my neck alive.

what lay in his right hand made my stomach lurch. this body was lifeless and nauseatingly all too familiar. i nearly wished that this body's face would switch away from the bloodied image in front of me because, although my gaze was stuck, watching was all too painful. he looked beautiful. god, how can someone look beautiful when their skin is paper white and their eyes hold no life behind them and yes, they're stood in front of you and they're there and they're breathing, but are they truly alive? what defines life, and who decides when it's gone or when it arrives? shane took a ragged breath in front of me and i gulped, watching as the man's grip tightened on both shane's body and my family's.

"who do you choose?" the voice tauntingly asked. the sound didn't come from the mask, nor either body, yet rang in my ears and made my skin crawl as though it were nails on a chalkboard.

"this is a dream." i told myself in a feeble attempt to reassure brain, feeling bile rise up my throat as i stared into the mask. it didn't feel that way, but maybe telling myself this would set myself back into reality.

"making everybody happy, or shane? who do you choose, ryland?"

my lip began to wobble as i rubbed my eyes and looked at his right fist, the colour draining from shane's face. i fell to the ground, my legs crossing themselves before i could even tell them to.

"who do you choose?" the voice was no longer a quiet sound, but now a shout that succumbed my whole entire body.

"i don't know." i cried vulnerably. shakes manipulated my limbs as i cradled my head, rocking back and forth, covering my ears. shane's pleading, bloodied eyes met mine and i sobbed harder, my breathing heavy. "i don't know, i don't know."