Cross Roads (For EcoDude's story contest)

Cross Roads (For EcoDude's story contest)

Maureen "Mo" Britton is a 15-year-old living- well, living nowhere. She's just another homeless person. Or- is she?

Rates are needed for the contest, so I'd really appreciate it if you took the time! ^.^ Thank you, and enjoy! I edited it slightly sinds last time, in case you read it before. It's not very noticable, though.

Chapter 9

The Final Truth

Flynn didn't respond and gazed sullenly at the heaven above, his eyes tracing the path a could worked through it.

Mo shook him, glancing around in agitation at the mysterious disappearance of her friend. "Flynn, where is he?! FLYNN?!"


"What do you mean, gone?" Maureen squeaked, the panic nearly making it impossible to speak for her. She grinded her nails rather harshly into Flynn's shoulder.

Again, he didn't respond. Mo's eyes searched the desert desperately again, but didn't see Joe anywhere. She sat down next to Flynn, who was still staring numbly at the sky, clearly not ready to be woken from his lethargy.

"Flynn, tell me," she pleaded, stroking his slack face and then hugging him tightly. "Tell me, Flynn."

He put his arms around her slowly and then started crying, his face crumpling. "I'm sorry, Mo," he croaked, "I'm so sorry."

The girl shushed him, and stroked his back, swallowing her own tears. They sat there together, in the middle of the desert, Flynn's body shaking with genuine sobs and Mo trembling along, frightened of what he knew. Neither of them said a word, but somehow managed to find comfort in the other's grief.

Flynn was the one to break the loud and questionable silence, though he didn't release Mo. "He's dead, Mo."

Every word rushed through Mo's ears, made her blood heat up, made her heart triple its speed and her legs weak. She wanted to ask him to repeat his words, but only a strangled breath left her mouth, her dry mouth forming a small "O".

"I guess it's time I tell you the truth," Flynn keened, hugging her more tightly.
These words, somehow, seemed even worse than the ones that had preceded them. Mo closed her eyes and grit her teeth as her shaking limbs seemed to fall apart, and her throat burned, a scream stuck in it.

"We're dead, Mo."

The words hung in the tense air, hovered above her head and a silence rung through the sky that was louder and more horrible than any sound of agony.

She couldn't talk. She couldn't think, all she could do was listen and try to fight the trust she had in Flynn's words.

"On the second of December, two-thousand and eight, I was walking in a dark alley, taking a shortcut. I had to buy some groceries for my dad, you see. Someone tried to mug me. We fought, but I didn't know he had a knife. I was stabbed twenty-two times by the time I died. I arrived at a crossroad, a trainrail. There, a girl waited patiently. My first and best friend. She'd died of cancer three years ago. She explained this was a place where we went if we weren't finished with life yet, if we had to wait for something. She stayed with me long enough to show me how to live in this place and then travelled on."

He paused and buried his face in Mo's short hair. "I'm sorry, Maureen. I'm so sorry."

The girl wanted to speak again, but couldn't. She wanted to scream at him that he was wrong, that she was alive, that he was crazy. Instead, she started sobbing as the truth finally dawned on her and a memory ripped her new life into pieces.

I'm sitting in the car, singing along to the radio. My father laughs at my off tune voice, and plays with the car's headlights: on, off, on, off,

"How are you?" he asks. I grin. "Fine, dad."

"You know what fine stands for? Feeling insecure, neurotic and emotional!" he says, breaking out into a laugh after his words.

I suspect he's a bit drunk, but I don't really care. We've played this game before. With the lights switching on and off, him asking me questions and then sprouting random sentences.

A love song comes up, and I can't help but smile as I recognize it. It's the song my boyfriend, Sam, always sings for me. My dad switches the light off again and starts swerving with the car on the road. No other cars are here, so I'm not even remotely scared. I just laugh with my dad, feeling the happiest I've been in days, and wonder what my mom will say when we get home.

That's when a bright light interrupts the black of the night and a deep honk of a truck follows. I am blinded as my world spins out of control. There is no time for screaming as the glass breaks, and I'm thrown through the windshield with a force that is bone breaking. It's pitch black before my eyes as I feel my nose is broken and blood is oozing out of a wound on my head. I can't move and that's when the shouting starts. People call my name, plead for me to open my eyes, but I can't. Everything is so black, I want to cry, I want them to help me. I don't want to let go, I want to stay, but I'm just so tired. With a last breath, I give up and float away.

"I'm dead," Mo whispered, distressed tears trickling down her face.


"Why am I still here, Flynn?"

"I don't know."

"When did Joe leave?"

Flynn was silent for a moment, his eyes distant. "I saw him go. You'd just fallen asleep. He was staring at the horizon and I knew that look. He gave you a kiss on your cheek, hugged me and...departed."

Mo took a deep breath and locked her arms around Flynn more tightly, making sure she had a hold on something solid- though nothing could guarentee her he wouldn't vaporize all of a sudden, surpised that when she spoke her voice was firm, "Why are you still here?"

"I guess I was waiting for you."

"What are we exactly, Flynn?"

The latter didn't answer, but stared at the horizon. Mo turned around as well and saw a bright, pink light appear, mixed with a golden hue that was both soothing and beautiful. Warmth radiated from it and she knew this would be her final destination on the long run she'd been on.

"I don't know who or what I am, but I know there are only four words to describe what you've become to me. I love you, Mo."

After uttering those words, Flynn stood up and pulled Mo with him. He adjusted the scarf around her shoulders and took her hand, holding it carefully in his large fingers. "Are you coming?"

Maureen hesitated and looked doubtfully at the desert, where the cross railroad had appeared out of nowhere and then back at Flynn. "Will we still be able to have our forms there?"

"I don't know. Do you trust me?"

Mo's hand tightened around Flynn's and her eyes locked with his. "I trust you."

A peaceful expression floated over Flynn's face, knowing what those three words were equal to. Together, they walked into the light and accepted their final truth.

The End

Skip to Chapter


© 2019 Polarity Technologies

Invite Next Author

Write a short message (optional)

or via Email

Enter Quibblo Username


Report This Content