Chapter 26
Indy
Ipace outside of my tent, my finger lingering over the image of me and my best friend on Halloween last year.
Liseth. I have to call her and tell her. She’s the only true attachment I have to the outside world, and I need her to know the decision I’m making, even if it means breaking her heart in the process.
I breathe in deeply. No more coffee runs or late-night Taco Bell delivery. No more long nights screaming at sweaty boys on Call of Duty. Just Hallow Lands.
I count to three, close my eyes, and press down before raising the phone to my ear. My heart thumps so hard in my chest, I swear I’m going to have a heart attack.
“Hello?” Liseth’s voice fills my head.
I take a deep breath.
“Babe? Are you there? Is everything okay?” Her voice jumps three octaves, and I sigh.
“Hey, babes, I’m sorry. I’m here. Uh, listen, can we talk?”
My eyes burn as the tears pour over my lash line. My heart is a crumbling mess, barely hanging on as it teeters on the line of love and my relationship with my best friend.
“It’s okay, babes, don’t cry,” Liseth’s calm voice floats through the speaker. “Sometimes it’s hard to take a chance. It doesn’t mean you’re making the wrong decision. Life can be scary; it’s only when you feel something that you remember you’re alive.”
She doesn’t stutter, all the confidence of someone who’s lived seeping through the phone. “If he makes you feel something, stay.” She pauses, as if she’s thinking over her next words carefully.
“Everything happens for a reason. And you never know what that reason is until it’s staring you straight in the face. Take the chance, or you might regret it.” Her voice falters on the last few words, her pain seeping through the phone for a split second.
“I love you,” I whisper to her, hoping she believes me.
“I love you too, Indy.” Her voice sounds lighter; her excitement for me is trumping any emotions she had just moments before.
“Tell him to take care of you, or your best friend will hunt him down and gut him like a pig.” She laughs, but I know she’s serious.
Liseth is the type of friend who would track down the world’s most renowned hitman, probably one with superpowers, just to be able to find me again.
I laugh along with her, her blessing meaning more than she’ll ever know.
“I promise I will, babe,” I choke down the tears, excited for the future but so fucking scared nonetheless. I’m entering new territory here, and I won’t have my one true constant by my side. It’s terrifying.
“I’m only a text away.” She interrupts my thoughts, already knowing where my mind is going. “Go get ready, you have to leave soon, and you’re procrastinating the inevitable again.”
I dramatically groan. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“I know, babes, but we both know you’re going to take a thousand years getting ready, and you don’t wanna be late to this.”
“I know, I know. Thank you again for being so supportive.”
“Always. It’s what best friends are for. Love youuuuu,” she sings. “Byeee, babe, have funnn.”
And then, the line goes dead.
I take a deep, steadying breath.
Time to see The Doctor.
Time moves slower when you’re inching toward change. It’s like the world knows your life is about to turn into something you’ve never known.
No matter how much preparation you take, there’s still the buzz of anxiety that runs through your veins. The mental gymnastics you give yourself, going over whether it’s the right decision or not.
It’s never easy. Not something you can ever fully prepare for. Like stepping into a ring of fire. You’ll either burn or come out on the other side, barely touched and thriving.
I stand there, watching my reflection in the mirror. The face that stares back at me has changed. She’s sharper, more fierce, more beautiful, more understanding. Someone I’ve always dreamed of becoming. A woman whom I can only admire.
I’m ready now.
Ready to take the chance, ready to fall into The Doctor’s infection.
It may be a stupid decision, and I know that, but I’m also ready for something to change. For years, my life has been hollow, devoid of feeling. A place where I always felt like I was drowning.
Here. I’m living. Without judgment, without fear. And most importantly, with love. Something my past was never kind enough to gift me. A child born from hate that’s now a cure.
The irony doesn’t get away from me.
I lace up my platform boots and throw my vapes in their bag. I take one last look in the mirror and whisper to my reflection.
“Thank you for trusting me. I know it’s scary,” I say, my breath ghosting against the mirror. “We’ve survived worse, we’ve got this.”
I turn, heart racing in my chest, and walk.
Out of the tent.
Away from the girl I was.
And into his world.
His infection.