I FOUND YOU

'Everything is beautiful if you look at it with love'

     I am sat in a Sukhasana pose on one side of the red rubber booth, silently sipping a coke, ice hitting my teeth with each tilt of the glass, waiting for the blonde woman dawned in the apron of this cheap restaurant.

  Ben sits across from me, fidgeting with his fingers and picking at his nail beds. The light bulb above us flickering at an inconstant pace. Almost mimicking the glowing sign outside that displayed the name of the restaurant in bright red. The bright lights are followed by the small- yet speedy- bustles of cars that created the visual of a long stroke of watercolors. Overlayed by the passing of water drops running down the window.

Ever since the group fell apart I grieve them. As if they died. Yet I have no room to, so much is happening I don't even have room to feel. Emotions are just labor to find annoying, not something that I can just let myself feel. My sorrow is nothing but more to the world but a feeling.

The world keeps spinning and I'm stuck. I'm merely a bug in a glass jar. Something to feel bad for yet something no one will help. Though, I doubt I would except help.

I hate this feeling, yet, It's safe.

The sky is a blueish black, barely any starts are visible. A compliment towards the bright lights of the busy streets. Becoming an inverted version of the Phantom Realm.

The blonde woman walks back, her short heels click on the checkered floor with each step.

"Here's that for you, doll" She says, a thick southern accent lacing her words. She slides a plate with a burger and fries, I pushed my drink to the side to make room. Then she turns to Ben, who was already eyeing his plate of fries and a burger that laid on the plastic, black tray.

"And for you, dear" She says, pushing his plate towards him before adjusting her ponytail as she walks off. Clicking heels follow her steps.

My gaze turns to Ben as I lean in.

"Anything? Weird dreams, hallucinations, policemen?" I ask, my voice low so we don't get overheard. We already got lucky that our waitress didn't recognize us from our wanted posters.

It was quiet for a second.. But only about a second as he rose his hands to sign.

"Weird dreams." He clarifies. "Dreams of a phantom version of me attacking me"

  As I watched his hands move to sign, the memory of overhearing Aiden and Tyler's conversation. They were having dreams of their phantom version attacking them..

As we sit in silence that was only completed by the— almost silent— popular pop music echoing from the low life speaker over layered by the faint sound of frying, ice pouring, and unrecognizable chatter of the workers.

I look down, towards my legs that were overlapping each other. My feet were sore, my calves were cramping, and my thighs and weak.

We've been walking. Walking, taking trains, sleeping under bridges, all while being strapped for cash and on the run. Walking and riding and hiding. For months.

"Do..." I pause, to think about what I'm about to say. Though, I don't even know why I would have to think about it. I already know Ben's thinking the same. "Do you think that we'll ever see the others..?" I ask, my voice weaker than I want.

He's brows lower over his sorry eyes that are angled down, the reflection of red from the sign bouncing off his dark brown eyes. He didn't need to sign. He didn't need to put words to what he thought. I knew.

We won't.

Maybe we could, maybe fate will bring us together. But that's just a maybe. Not hope. Not a prayer. A "maybe"

The taps of heels against the tile floor slowly grow closer, and closer till our waitress was towering over us, slight fear reflected in her eyes.

"Darlin', you gotta get" she whispers, urgency weaving through her words.

I look up at her, then down at my barely eaten food, I only ate about four fries and a bite of my burger. Same with Ben.

"Could I get a box?" I ask, looking back up at her frantic expression.

"No. Y'all really gotta get, hunny." She says, steadying her voice enough to be demanding, I glance at Ben from the corner of my eye. Then back at our waitress

She lead me to follow her gaze to another worker, completely absorbed in a 'wanted' poster. I can't see who was displayed on the poster, but I knew.

I glanced back at Ben, catching my stare he stood up abruptly, pushing off the table leaving the plates and silverware rattling. He reached out and grabbed my wrist. Guiding me to a standing point.

He gave a knowing nod to the waitress and dragged me out the swinging doors, a bell frantically rings as we bolt out the door. I can faintly hear the yelling of the waiter noticing us leave, and our waitress chasing after him. Frantically persuading him to; "let 'em go, Travis!"

Ben pulls me into a nearby alley way. We hunch under a thin, black staircase. signing "Be quiet" to me—I nod—pursing my lips together.

I continued to hear my racing breath and a continuous thumping suffocate me. I can't tell if it's my heartbeat or the putter of the rain against the metal stairs.

Interrupting the suffocation of loud silence was police sirens that faded in and out from nearby. After it the sound that was blanketed by the sirens were footsteps. They were fast pace paired with huffing.

They grow closer—the huffing and putting of feet enhancing with each step.

They pare with the pitter of the rain, like the beat and melody of a song, a sorrowful song. Not because the paces are pitiful but because of the feeling that paired with it.

I feel an ache merely hearing the paired putter.

Then—I spot them—Taylor and Logan..

_____Word Count: 1023