The Contradiction of Solitude

I was killing him.

“No. No. Not Amelia. Not you.” He was out of his mind.

He had snapped.

Then he got to his feet and ran out of the house. I followed him. The devil on his heels.

He had pulled out his phone and held it up, staring at the dark screen.

“She’s calling again! I can’t talk to her! Not now!” I watched the phone in his hand. No ringing. All was silent.

I wasn’t the only one who had found comfort in ghosts.

In memories.

“Are you going to answer it?” I asked him. I would play his game. In his brokenness, it was all he had left. He needed it. It anchored him. Just as he anchored me.

“I can’t. She can’t know! What would she say if she knew I was out here with you.” He shook his head, his quiet phone gripped in his hand. Out here in the woods where my monster had come to play, Elian’s demons had found him waiting and eager.

He was a man who had lost everything.

Alone.

He was so, so perfect in his mad, mad sanity.

“Who’s calling, Elian?” I asked him.

Knowing the answer.

His mind split open. Fracturing. Lucidity lost.

He stared at his phone. “She won’t stop calling.”

I moved beside him and put my hand on his arm. He flinched but didn’t pull away. I leaned up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his neck. Over his wounds.

The visible ones.

I tasted the scars that I couldn’t see.

“Tell me who she is, Elian.”

He melted into my mouth. Into my hands. He gave me all of him. Absolutely everything.

He had nothing.

Nothing left.

“Amelia,” he whimpered, dropping the phone onto the ground.

The ringing went on and on that only he could hear.





“Has Amelia called back?” I asked Layna. She was driving us home. Was it home? Where was home?

I knew nothing.

I saw everything.

It had all gone black.

“Answer the phone, Elian!”

She was angry with me. I hated it when Amelia was angry. She said hurtful things when she was in pain.

Her calls had been a comfort. They helped me get through hard times. I spent time with Amelia in the soft quiet of home.

It felt good knowing she was there…always there.

But she wasn’t. Amelia James was gone.

“She hasn’t called back, Elian. Rest. Sleep. We’ll be home soon.”

Home.

Home.

She was taking me home.

Layna.

I felt myself recoil at the thought of her name. Layna. I wanted to scream.

Layna.

The face of my angel. The eyes of my terror.

She had seen it all.

She had seen Amelia. She knew Amelia. What he had done to her. She had been with her at the end.

At the end…

I want to talk to you, Elian. I miss you…

No! I wouldn’t answer the phone. Never again. Amelia wasn’t there! She was gone. I knew that.

So why was I letting myself believe in the lie?

It was safer to be with her than without her. In her nonexistent company I could stop pretending.

“You threw out all the pills, didn’t you, Elian?” Layna was asking. The pills? Why is she always asking about the pills? Hadn’t we already talked about this?

“Turn the phone off. The ringing hurts my ears!” I demanded.

“Okay, I’ll turn it off.” Her hands never left the steering wheel. She was lying. Layna was lying all the time.

She had seen Amelia.

She knew.

How did she find me? How did she know where I was?

Layna.

Amelia.

Going home.

“Where did she go?” I yelled, beating my fists against the dashboard. Muddled thoughts. Convoluted dreams. They were all mixing together. I couldn’t see the truth for the deceptions.

“I used to watch you in Denny’s with Tate. I’d sit in my booth every day and watch you talk. Watch you laugh. Watch you smile. And I knew it was all fake. It wasn’t you. I wanted to know why you lied.”

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