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But then, if necessary or desperate enough, anyone could break through those.
And kill me.
“Wouldn’t it be safer if we were in a crowded room?” I suggested.
Aera spun around, her eyebrows knitted together. “Heol. You don’t even have an ounce of concern for yourself. You know what … we should be in a storage room, but I don’t know where it is because I legitimately hate school.”
“How about—”
“Stop it, please!” She held her hand up in the air. “I’m calling the police.”
“What are you going to tell them? That you had a vision?” I snorted.
“Isn’t that better than your suggestion?” she snapped. “Do you seriously trust everyone and anyone you see? Gray, if you’re in a crowded room, there’s a possibility that your killer is also in the room. And there’s nothing we can do about that. At least if I call the police, they may be able to save us—you.”
“Yeah, but I can smell the guy and unarm him before he does anything bloody stupid,” I finished before it suddenly dawned on me that my sentence might have suggested something else entirely. “I meant, smell like … you know, find out who the killer is through my natural instincts … kinda like a dog, you know. Sniff sniff … boom. It’s a talent I have. I can smell murderers.”
Aera did not seem to enjoy anything that came out of my lips. She didn’t roll her eyes like she usually did whenever someone got on her nerves. Instead, she looked at me with unreadable eyes, eyebrows pulled together, mouth drawn downward, her lips pouting like she was about to cry.
“I’m serious,” she muttered, her breath harsh and shaky as she stumbled back. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if we’re actually safe here.” Her knees buckled, and the next thing I knew, she had her arms wrapped around herself, as if she could contain the panic building up in her chest.
“Aera?” I said as softly as I could. Leaning forward on one knee, I shifted so I was right in front of her. “Hey, you’re okay, you’re doing good.” I soothed her as I caressed the back of her hands gently, siphoning some of the warmth from my core into hers to help calm her down. “Shh, it’s okay,” I murmured, “it’s okay.”
Aera gazed up at me, her shoulders hunched as beads of sweat collected on her forehead. Then it happened, fast. I couldn’t stop her tears from falling or the whimpers from leaving her mouth.
“It’s not okay,” she cried quietly. “I want to be okay, but I’m scared. You got shot, okay? Three times. You died in front of me. I saw blood on your leg, your chest, and your head, and … you know what’s worse? I already saw you die before, twice now. What if I can’t stop it anymore? I’ve been having these visions for a while, Gray. Other people died the exact same way they did in my stupid visions. It’s proven and I know when it’s real. I know when I’m not just dreaming, and I hate it. You said you believed me … then how are you okay with this?”
“Aera.”
“I’m not okay with that. I’m just not …” Her voice trailed off before she shut her eyes and finished her sentence, “I’m not okay with anyone dying.”
“I won’t die,” I tried, drying her tears with the tip of my fingers. “I promise.”
Her eyes opened again, finding mine, searching for the truth in the promise I’d made. “How?”
I swallowed. “I have you,” I told her, grinning from ear to ear. “I have the advantage here because you know what and when it’ll happen. And look, I’m still here. Lunch time is almost over, but technically, you already saved me. We’re both safe. Don’t you see? No one’s coming in here unless it’s the janitor. The toilet smells.”
She bit her lip, struggling to hold herself together as her sniffles subsided. “But what if it happens again? What if you die?”
“Then just tell me from now on. I’ll do something. I’ll always believe you. Always,” I said before clasping my arms around her and pulling her closer to my chest, unable to resist the urge to embrace her.
Aera had always been the kind of strong girl who gave boys mixed feelings. She was ambitious, unapproachable, easily annoyed, and had a mouthful of curses and insults for people who thought they were any better, but deep inside she was just an innocent girl—surprisingly caring, loyal, and a hopeless romantic. A girl with a golden heart. Boys either disliked her or admired her. Sometimes, they simply didn’t pay attention, at least not enough to see through her.
But I did. I’d always been there, standing next to her like she was the only light I could see in a darkness too deep for even the moon to illuminate.
Say Kopiko
There aresome people who can still break you even if you never once gave heed to their opinion. People you didn’t care about until you’ve suddenly lost them. You feel their void. I realized it then, that void.
Before that particular moment in the girls’ restroom, I thought my life had been trivial and self-centered. Then came my visions, haunting me nonstop.
And along came Gray.
Sometimes I saw visions of Gray getting brutally shot, stabbed, or burned alive in his room, at the school, the park, the mall, or on the street. For six consecutive days since the restroom drama, I worked at keeping him alive. I would wake up and run to his house to tell him what I had seen so we could avoid it in every possible way.
Each day, I dreaded that I wouldn’t make it in time to save him.
Over the past few days, Gray and I grew closer, but most importantly, I became the most overprotective person in his life. This was an odd but inevitable change we both needed. I didn’t mean to be paranoid. It just happened that I accused anyone who went anywhere near Gray of being the serial killer, including Krystal Kyrano.
