Nodding, I clutch on to the memory because I’ll never let it go.
Reaching for the door handle, I open the door and what I see has memory after memory collide into me. I see Misha hunched over his desk as he studies for exams. He’s then lying on the bed, tossing a football into the air as he talks on the phone to his girlfriend.
Trista…
“I was wondering if I could talk to you about Misha. He was…”
That’s what she said to me at Misha’s funeral, but I never got to hear what she wanted to say.
“Kyle, do you know Misha’s girlfriend? Trista?”
“Yes.”
“I need to speak to her immediately!”
I run down the hallway to…my room.
I remember.
Being here is what the remedy is. Not being locked in a place which does more harm than good.
Storming into my walk-in closet, I see beautiful outfits hanging, but I also see empty hangers.
“And why are you wearing my dress? Just because I’m not home doesn’t mean you can come and go as you please.”
I said those words to Joy when she visited me. I was so angry at her.
“Luna! Please!” Joy pleads, and when she attempts to touch my shoulder, I lunge and bite her hand. “Oh my god!”
She recoils, cradling it to her chest as two orderlies run over to wheel me away.
“Oh, and by the way,” I call over my shoulder. “Stay out of my fucking house!”
I’ve been told she was just trying to help, but helping herself to my clothes when I’m locked away seems a little disrespectful.
Something feels very wrong and I can’t help but shake this foreboding feeling that things are about to get so much worse.
I begin to strip off and slip into a pair of jeans and a white knitted sweater. Once my boots are laced, I grab my coat and on instinct, reach into the pocket to feel a movie ticket. I wore this coat when Misha and I went to see a rerun that was playing at the local cinema.
Things are starting to slowly come back and I know that when they do, all hell will break loose.
I asked Kyle to organize the meeting between Trista and I, but that I’d like to talk to her alone. The reason being, I think Joy has something to do with all of this.
It can’t be a coincidence that she’s missing. She’s either fled, or her choices have caught up to her.
The untouched coffee sits in front of me as I try to blend in. I don’t want to raise any suspicion because I am still a fugitive as such.
I’m thankful to have Kyle on my side as it’s nice to have a friend. I know staying at my house is a stupid idea, but it’s the only place where I feel safe.
A beautiful young woman enters, her red hair tied back into a high ponytail. She searches the diner and when her eyes land on me, I know this is Trista. She comes rushing over, tears in her green eyes.
I don’t even have a chance to stand before she’s embracing me in a tight hug. “Oh, Ms. Huxley. It’s so good to see you.”
I softly rub her back, allowing her to shed her tears because I understand this is a lot for her. We all loved Misha. His death impacted us all.
When her sniffs cease, she lets me go and sits across from me, wiping her red-rimmed eyes. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. We all heard what happened. I’m so sorry.”
All I can do is nod and smile. “Thank you. I wanted to ask you a few questions.”