COMMON ROOM: A Short Story Anthology

Soulless by Rachel Wang (Wattpad username = chandelier)

SOULLESS by Rachel Wang (Wattpad username = chandelier)

Mentor: Lori Goldstein, author of BECOMING JINN, releasing April 21, 2015, from Macmillan’s Feiwel and Friends

 ***

A roll of toilet paper changed my life.

I always thought if something were going to change me, it would be something significant—like finding my true love or getting a new job. But I guess this is where the saying “expect the unexpected” comes in, because I definitely did not anticipate the earth-shattering catalyst in my life to be a roll of Charmin Ultra Strong.

“Delilah Evanston to Kaiden Lakeworth. Do you roger?”

Delilah’s voice registers somewhere in the back of my mind, like a faint cry in the distance. My body may be here, next to her, but my mind wanders off . . .

I fingered the end of the soft tissue, rummaging around in my pant’s pocket for tape, before I let it dangle over the side of the large picture window.

I was about to stick the tape to the window frame when I heard yelling from the building across from me. Instinctively, I flinched and flattened myself against the roof.

After a few heartbeats, I lifted my head but didn’t dare to get back up. Through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows that made up most of the Devoted Headquarters I could see a group of white-collar officials were sitting around a conference table. Yeah, so, it probably wasn’t the brightest idea to toilet paper this part of the building while anyone from the conference room could look outside and see me, but judging by the intense looks on their faces, they were too busy talking about whatever important issue had brought them to the Devoted Headquarters to notice a group of teenaged pranksters on the roof.

I sure didn’t pay their conversations any mind; I was too busy making sure my comrades didn’t stumble off the roof and plummet to their deaths, that they all had enough toilet paper, and that the security guard in the watchtower didn’t wake up and catch us.

In fact, it wasn’t until my name popped up that I started to listen.

#

For a moment, it’s like my perfect-vision eyes are looking through my great-grandfather’s prescription glasses. The world is fuzzy and off-kilter. Then, like flinging those glasses to the ground, Delilah’s hiss of “Kaiden!” comes, followed by her sharp jab to my arm, and everything snaps back into focus. A sense of déjà vu overwhelms me. I know that memory . . . That was the night I found out that someone is out to kill me, but frustratingly enough, I can’t remember much else. Like a blurry picture with details I can’t quite make out.

I check my watch—a new habit that’s developed these past few weeks. In the beginning, my obsession with time was ensuring I had enough of it—enough to make arrangements for my upcoming death and to tick off all the items on my bucket list before I bit it. 

But ever since the night I got the guts to tell Delilah I was going to die, the reason for my obsessive watch checking has flipped. It’s no longer making sure I have enough time to prepare for my end, but making sure we have enough time to execute the plan that might just ensure my survival.

00:08:26:64

Less than nine hours left to do it.

“Have I lost you?” Delilah prods.

“No,” I reply, tearing my eyes away from the sleek black countdown watch long enough to mock salute the green-eyed beauty seated next to me. “I mean, yes, I roger.”