spin the bottle// byler

xi (ghost)

will's POV

it's cold where i am.

rain falls on my skin, dripping from the leaves of the trees overhead.

"mike?" i call out, hearing my own voice echo back.

it's dark, cold, wet, and apparently i'm alone.

i look around to try and figure out where i am, but to no avail.

all i can see are the trees, which are still dripping rain onto my head and clothes.

but, it's not raining. i can see the clear sky filtering through the branches. the moon, the stars, and not a cloud in sight.

i try calling out again, "mike?"

behind me, i hear a high-pitched screech. i turn to face the noise, and see nothing.

upon closer inspection, i see it's not nothing. it's a wounded crow. it screeches again as i approach it.

i kneel beside it, hoping to be able to give it some aid. i've taken anatomy, i'm semi-confident that i can figure this out

i touch its wing, watching as it just lays there, not moving and not screeching anymore.

it feels rough, like gravel underneath its feathers.

"will?" a voice approaches, my head snaps backwards to meet it.

i abandon the bird and walk left, no, right, following the voice. it's almost impossible to tell where i'm going in the dark.

i decide to stay silent, in case it's a trap.

in the distance, i see a building, something like mike's house.

i audibly gasp, am i back? or is this the upside down?

i listen to the tiny cracks of the twigs underfoot, hoping they don't give me away to the shadow monster if this is the upside down.

slowly, i approach the house, basking in the hope of uncertainty.

he might be behind this door, waiting for me, arms spread, inviting me in.

or the house will be nothing but cobwebs, darkness, cold, eeriness.

i put my hand on the doorknob, turning it gently, as to not make any noise.

i know immediately, upon entering the house that this is the upside down. it's dark, it's dreadful, it's not warm here.

"will?" i hear as i step into the living room, this time the voice is recognizably mike.

"mike?" i call out, knowing he can't hear me, but hoping he can.

i venture through the house, avoiding the places that feel extra chilly. the last place i go is the basement, which, by process of elimination, must be where mike is.

"will?" not mike, but el.

she's sitting on the couch, legs crossed, eyes closed.

she's looking for me.

i run down the rest of the stairs, jumping onto the couch next to her, eager for her to help me get back.

she must feel me there, because her eyes open and she looks at me with relief.

"will?" she asks, placing a hand on my shoulder, something i know i should be able to feel, but can't.

"yes, it's me, el. can you hear me?" i try placing my hand over hers, which still rests on my shoulder.