RECAP:

My touch had no effect on the area and I couldn't feel a thing.

Is this what it feels like to be numb? To be empty?

Soon I found it hard to focus on these thoughts no matter how hard I tried.

Was something put in that water? I tried to think but everything was turning dark.

Forget that... everything was already pitch black.

And when I finally managed to regain my vision, I rubbed my eyes and confusion struck.

Suddenly I was back on the plane.

*i listened to this song on repeat whilst writing this so it felt necessary to put it in this chapter* [Song: Anchor by Novo Amor]

Left.

Right.

I look both ways again and it was just how I remembered it being.

Left.

Right.

That's not possible.

I don't even bother shifting in the itchy seat as I jolt towards a familiar row of chairs.

"Woah, you okay?" I heard from beside me but continued rushing down the empty aisle towards the front of the plane.

Suddenly two firm hands gripped my shoulders and spun me around so that I was forced to meet the voice's face.

But I already knew exactly who it was.

My hands began to uncontrollably shake by my sides as I fixed my gaze on the floor and rolled my shoulders as a gesture for him to let go.

In that moment, he could have said something -anything. I didn't have a clue.

My brain ached, more so than It did earlier today when I was laid beside Ashton. My Ashton.

It ached with the idea that he was gone.

It ached with the fact I was somehow back on this goddamn plane.

But, right now, it ached with the realisation that I was feeling... And I was feeling everything.

From the subtle breeze of bitter air conditioning, to the hands latched to my shoulders and even to the way my lungs welcomed every breath as if it was my last.

I thought you couldn't feel in dreams,

I guess I thought a lot of things.

My laptop, today at 14:52pm , Google's search bar.

ENTER

My laptop, today at 14:53pm, New tab, Google's search bar.

ENTER

My laptop, today at 14:55, New tab, Google's search bar.

ENTER

I was aware.

Not the whole time -No, I knew later even.

Maybe when I got the text -Maybe.

But I think I always had a feeling.

You know, a second sense, a gut feeling even. It all felt too good.

Too good to be true -too surreal.

The waves felt real. The panic. The love. The Summer.

Our summer.

In Fact, I still believe that it was real -to some extent at least.

It could just be denial.

In some ways, It was us. But then, it wasn't. Our souls, our minds, our words- They were all real. I like to think they were at least.

I like to think that, at some point, there was a Becca and me.

Once upon a time.

But that's how you start a fairytale. Those four words. The same words that guarantee a 'Happily ever after'.

Becca and Me. Me and Becca. Our story was cut short before the pen was even pressed to the paper. Before it got to write those four words. Before we even got our chance.

Maybe it's the author's fault. They didn't write us a fairytale. We didn't even get our magical ending.

I flip in my covers once more and finally, my eyes open for the first time in a couple of hours.

In our world, the one made for me and Becca, it seemed like a whole summer.

"Please sit back in your seat madam." The stewardess ushered me as the seatbelt sign above our heads flicked to a deathly crimson red.

Blood.

I want to yell at her, I want to scream so loud she takes her gloved hand to cover the pair of sickening pearls on her ears. I want to tell her that this isn't real and how it feels like nothing is anymore.

How nothing makes sense and the only person that does is dead.

But I wasn't even enough to make him stay.

I want to go back to when my eyes fluttered open this morning -Back when everything was perfect.

It didn't matter that Ethan was mad at Ashton and I. It didn't matter that Josie and Ethan had hidden their relationship from the two of us. It didn't matter that I was going home to the fact that I would only get to see them in a few years when we had all moved on to become filled with ambitions or how we would be brand new people by then. None of that mattered. We were together and we were all so deeply in love.

Too deep that we all drowned. Well, not all of us.

It makes me think that Ashton had it easy. He didn't watch the person he loved being carried along a beach filled with memories in a bright orange stretcher. He wasn't alone when everyone held onto one another in mourning. He doesn't constantly wonder which would have been a better way to die.

To drown or to mourn.

In some ways, they both kill you.

One stops the heart, the muscles the organs. The ability to feel, to care or to be human.

The other breaks the heart, turns you into a magnet for answers, all so you are able to label the monster of guilt taking over your every being.

In my opinion, this monster does the same as death, it takes the ability to feel, to care or to be human.

Right now, that monster wanted to wipe that tight lipped smile from the porcelain doll-like woman.

I didn't do it, neither did the monster.

Afterall, the deep shade of red would have stained my hand.

Blood.

Heat crawled from my neck up to my eyes. Hot tears. They wouldn't stop no matter how much I told myself I would wake up soon.

It's just a nightmare.

Suddenly the floor dropped. Then my stomach. Then the ticket in my hand that I didn't realise I had scrunched beneath my fist.

"Miss, back to your seat please we have hit some turbulence-" Another drop. Then another.

Soon enough I had pushed past the uniformed lady and made my way to the front of the plane in fast strides clutching the seats beside me with each step.

Another bump caused me to fall in front of Ethan's row and hit my head on the cold floor.

That's gotta be enough to wake me up, I thought.

But I continued to blink, to breathe, to get myself off the shaking ground and wipe the moisture from my face.

Only, when I examined my hand, it was completely crimson red.

More Blood.

~~~