CHAPTER SIX
1074 Words
Maya’s Pov
It had been three days since I met up with Sienna in the school cafeteria.
Three days of trying to pretend everything was normal, whatever normal meant for me now, while ignoring the persistent feeling that something was profoundly, irrevocably different.
Sienna hadn’t been the only person I’d turned to. She did what any good friend would do. She referred me to people, real people. A therapist. A psychologist.
They all nodded and listened then said the same thing, in slightly different ways: trauma, stress, neurological misfires.
The hallucinations were symbolic, my body processing grief.
“It’s your mind trying to process something overwhelming.”
“It’s not real.”
“It’s a form of dissociation.”
But I hadn’t opened up to them, not entirely.
How could I, when I'm this scared of what it is myself?
How could I admit I was hearing a voice in my head, a voice that seemed… alive?
Meanwhile, my senses were sharper; I noticed every movement, every conversation across the school corridors, every change in a person’s expression.
My mom was worried, my face turned pale whenever it was time to leave home.
It was exhilarating and overwhelming.
It made me restless, nervous…
… crazy.
I pressed myself against the pillows in my dimly lit room, phone in hand, scrolling through messages I hadn’t answered.
Messages and calls from Louis.
I hadn't felt like talking to him after what happened. I've been avoiding any form of contact with him.
He’d called me nearly a dozen times in the last two days; text messages filled my phone’s screen, begging me to talk, to let him explain, to let him apologize.
I stared at the screen, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
Typing…
Delete.
Typing…
Delete.
I threw the phone on my bed.
He didn’t deserve a reply. But I wasn't sure why.
How do I look at him after what happened? He had seen me, touched me… I was having the best time of my life… sigh.
***
School the next day was unbearable.
The corridors swarmed with noise. Students moved in clumps, tossing jokes, laughter, sideways glances. None of it touched me. It was like I was moving in a completely different tempo from everyone else.
Then I saw her.
Zelda. Dressed to kill in her pastel pink jacket, glossy blonde waves, lip gloss popping like she was walking a runway.
She stood by the lockers surrounded by her court of bimbos, Tessa and Lila, all smiles and smugness.
Her eyes locked on mine.
“Look who’s here,” she sang, loud enough for people nearby to tune in. “Queen of the war memorial, looking like she’s seen a ghost.”
I kept walking. Head down, hands in hoodie pockets.
Not today.
But Zelda wasn’t done.
“I mean, for someone who’s dating Louis, you sure know how to ghost him. You haven’t noticed he’s been spending time with other girls? Guess that’s what happens when you starve your boyfriend.”
Tessa giggled. Lila gasped and whispered something that made Zelda laugh.
“Louis is such a sweetheart,” Zelda purred, putting her hand to her chest like she was about to swoon. “The way he talks… ugh, it’s like honey in your ears. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was into me now.”
I stopped walking.
Turned around.
The corridor shifted with the movement. People slowed. Eyes were now on us.
Zelda smiled wider, loving the attention.
“What’s wrong, Maya?” she mocked. “Did I strike a nerve?”
I stepped forward, closing the space between us until she could smell the irritation coming off my skin.
Zelda,” I said calmly, “ I never thought you would yearn for something so much that you become a pick-me. You've been incessantly throwing yourself at him. Can't you see? He's really not into you. So whatever sick little fantasy you have about Louis or this hallway full of girls who pretend to like you, keep it to yourself. Because it really doesn't look good on you.”
Her face paled.
Tessa blinked. Lila took a step back.
And right then, just as I turned away, something snapped.
A voice, low and smooth and unmistakably real, filled my head.
“Finally.”
I froze.
It was… feminine. Calm. Familiar in a way that sent chills through me.
I clenched my jaw and kept walking, shoving past a group of stunned onlookers. I didn’t stop until I burst into the school restroom, gripping the sides of the sink like I meant to break them.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
“You hear me now, don’t you?”
The voice whispered again. Soft and confident.
“I’ve been calling for days. But...”
I stared at my reflection. My eyes shimmered faintly amber, just for a second.
My breath caught.
“Who are you? Why can’t i hear you clearly?” I whispered aloud.
It responded. But it was inaudible.
“No, no, no!! I’m not crazy,” I muttered. “This isn’t real.”
I splashed water on my face, trying to make the voice stop.
It didn’t.
Instead, the world around me seemed sharper. I could hear footsteps echoing three floors down. A girl’s perfume clung to the stalls. My own heartbeat slowed… but the voice remained.
“Go to him.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“He’s waiting. You know where.”
And somehow… I did.
I left the restroom before I could talk myself out of it.
My feet moved like they had a mind of their own, like it recognized the path before I did.
I didn’t ask anyone, didn't call, didn’t check his schedule.
I just walked straight out the side entrance, past the gym, through the empty courtyard, and toward the East benches near the greenhouse.
He was there.
Just like the voice said he would be.
Louis stood beside two students, casually leaning against a bench. They laughed at something he said, then one of them glanced in my direction and nudged him.
He turned.
Our eyes locked.
The easy smile on his face dropped into something deeper. Sadder. Raw.
He didn’t speak.
Neither did I.
I walked across the grass, heart pounding louder with every step. The silence between us stretched like a wire pulled taut.
When I finally stood in front of him.
“We need to talk.”
- Writer
