call out my name [2gether]

CH 20 ✨

THE END OF A WORLD.

This is how this story began;

It starts with ...

No. Wait.

This is how it ...

ends.

This is how he dies ... ?

The white light illuminated his tall frame against the starry night sky that was competing with the twinkling lights of the skyscrapers. There was no time to react, really, as there was never enough time for anything anymore. Tine had been too late and he had missed his chance. Of course. What had he expected? A condescending, little smile filtered over his puffy lips at the fruitless, budding hope that had started to pucker up inside of his chest, not even receiving a fair opportunity to bloom. He had been so stupid, so naïve to believe that he had a chance at something with Sarawat.

The rapidly approaching roar of a motor made Tine lethargically look up from Ohm's message that was displayed on his cell phone. The glassy screen was splattered with stray drops of salty tears, the same tears that had just moments ago made wet tracks across his slender face.

Ohm:

Tine, where are you?

Yes. Where was he?

Tine tried to remember but the images were hard to pull. It felt as if he was stuck in a dark, sluggish void like a quicksand, watching all of this unfurl through a looking glass, a grainy video playing on a loop. He wanted to shout out a warning to himself but there was not enough air to fill his lungs inside the space cavity, a parallel dimension, that was keeping his soul in its dark clutches. Something cold and heavy sipped through his parted lips, filling his mouth, his throat and choking him to tears as he was being sucked in deeper and deeper inside this black hole of nothingness.

Something beeped far away.

Tine's body froze mid motion, brown orbs quivering as the overhead lights of a motorcycle almost blinded him. It illuminated his pale face, the red rimmed eyes and his puffy, raw lips from the bitter tears cried for his broken heart. A hiccupping cry was still echoing in his hollow chest as an overwhelming sense of cold dread ripped through his body. All sounds simultaneously increased to an unbearable, chaotic mess around him. Cars honked obnoxiously in the distance, people on the sidewalk yelled something and the pounding music from the clubs and restaurants along the city street spilled into the stuffy night. But Tine, he could only stare hypnotized at the fast approaching motorbike, his feet were rooted to the spot, limbs heavy.

He already knew what was going to happen. It was going to get painful and very ugly. A car would suddenly try to change lanes on the already packed road and the two-wheeler, going at full speed on red light, would swerve around to avoid a possible run in, only to cause a horrendous chain reaction that would maul Tine down together with it. The biker had a helmet, Tine did not.

Had this happened before? Was this a memory?

The phone fell out of Tine's slack grip, scattering into halves against the solid concrete of the pedestrian crossing. His other hand, the one that held the guitar pick, clutched even harder around the oval-shaped piece of plastic. The green walking sign flickered overhead, counting down the seconds until the crash.

Three.

Two.

One.