Looking In

“Lyla!” I whispered into the darkness. “Lyla, can you hear me?” But there was no response. Only the faint sound of dripping, as if someone had left a faucet unscrewed just the tiniest bit. I would’ve found it terribly irritating, if it weren’t the only company I had.
“Lyla!” I tried again, but still no response. “Lyla, please!”
I gathered up my legs and pulled them closer to my chest, hugging them like they were the only 2 things I had left. It was cold, and I was wearing my nightgown. I inhaled some air, and when I exhaled, I saw its faint, chilled trail in the darkness before me. It scared me to know that I was alone and cold, and worried to death about my best friend.
“Lyla…Lyla…Lyla…” I repeated over and over again, rocking back and forth. Then I abruptly stopped. A shiver when down my spine, and I swear I felt something breathing down my neck. My hairs stood on end, and I became somewhat resembled to an ice sculpture; still as a rock, and slowly dripping away. In one swift move, I brought my hand back around my head and smashed it against my neck.
There was something there, alright.
I stopped breathing, and quietly pulled whatever it was I’d grabbed onto towards my face, so I could see it. With every second I moved, I grew more troubled, and scared. But I finally brought up the courage to look at it.
My scream could’ve been heard miles away as I looked down at what I now held before me. Jumping back in surprise and let it go, and it weightlessly dropped unharmed to the group. It was an icy human arm, belonging to maybe someone around my age.
After finding my balance, I peered a bit closer. Turquoise nail polish, with faint white dots. I looked at my hands. Exactly the same color and pattern. There was only one person with the exact same kind as me. But…no. It wasn’t possible. It was real. It couldn’t be her.
I tugged on the arm a bit, and the rest of the body followed. A shoulder, a neck, a chin, and finally a face. The girl’s wispy red hair was covering her eyes, and her lips were dried. Maybe she’d been dead for long. I brushed away her bangs, and lifted open her eyes.
I couldn’t believe it.
It just couldn’t be.
As I stared into the cold, gray eyes of the girl, I let a silent tear roll down my cheek, and onto my nightgown.
It was Lyla.

I awoke with a start, covered in sweat, my father standing over me. I picked up my alarm clock from my bedside table: 10:00 AM.
“Isabel, we…we need to go. You need to go,” my dad softly said to me. I set down the clock, an alarmed expression clear on my face.
“What…what is it?”
“Isabel, listen to me. That doesn’t matter. You just need to go downstairs, and-“
“Dad…what is it?!” I was choking back tears, my voice scratchy. I had a feeling that I already knew what he was talking about. I just didn’t want it to be true. It was all just a dream. A silly little nightmare that I’d had. It wasn’t reality.
“Isabel, please just do as I say!”
“No!” I yelled. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong!”
His face was solemn. Maybe I’d gone too far. I didn’t need to know. I didn’t want to know.
“It’s…Lyla,” he said. “She’s…”
“She’s what, Dad?” I asked. “She’s what? Just say it! Say it!” I urged. If I couldn’t say it myself, he could. “Say it, dad,” I said softly, and he did.
“Lyla…died just this morning, Isabel.” He was avoiding my eyes. “Your mother requests you downstairs. Her family’s in the living room.” With those final words, he bowed his head and left, leaving me in a fit of tears, drowning in sorrow. The sudden realization had finally hit me.
Lyla, my best friend that’d done every single thing possible with me, was dead. I’d never see her again.