Page 26 of The Bitter Words

My dream… Was that my pops trying to tell me something?

That question only takes me down the worst possible scenario. I rush back to where Bren’s sleeping.

I rip back the curtain and jiggle him awake. “Guns, call Livianna.”

“What the fuck, bro?” He tries to roll over.

I grab his arm. “She’s in her fucking head. I have a bad feeling, Guns. Something’s not right.”

His eyes open and terror screeches through them. He jumps out of his bed. “What happened?”

“She left me a couple of messages. They don’t make sense, but I had a nightmare she was…leaving.” I hurry back to the common area. “You gotta try to reach her. She’s not answering my calls.”

He follows me. “Show me her texts.”

I open the thread and he takes my phone from me. As he scans over the screen, his face pales. He tosses my cell down and grabs his off the charger.

He hits a button and brings his phone to his ear. He stands frozen. A pained groan tears through his chest.

He tries calling her again. I pace the small space as he continues this a couple more times.

“Fuck it.” He does something on his cell and holds it out.

“Brendan, is everything okay?” His dad’s voice comes out groggy through the speaker.

“No. You gotta go check on Livianna.” Bren glances at me, rubbing his neck.

“Why?” Mr. Hemings comes in more alert.

“She sent some fucked-up messages to Cash. We’ve been trying to call her and she’s not answering.” Bren slides into the booth in the eating area.

His dad sighs. “She’s probably sleeping?—”

“Please, Mr. Hemings.” I cut in to stress the importance of our request. “I have a bad feeling.”

“All right.” He pauses as if he’s doing something. “This is probably unnecessary. She was drunk when she got home and was likely just rambling.”

“Greg, what’s going on?” Mrs. Hemings’ voice streams through the line.

“The boys are worried about Livianna. I’m going in to check on her.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Their footsteps filter through as Bren and I stare at eachother. From his hardened features, it’s clear he’s picking up on the same vibe I have.

We both know she was likely doing drugs along with drinking, so her messages are concerning as fuck. My muscles tighten over my ribs, making the pounding in my chest that much more pronounced. My heart’s about to beat out of my body.

“Livianna,” her mom says. There’s a split second of silence and then a piercing scream. “Greg! She’s not breathing. Oh my God, Livianna. No, no, no!”

“Lorna, her wrists…”

Something scrapes the speaker and then a crash occurs in the background. Blood swooshes through my ears. I go numb and try to figure out what’s going on.

“Call nine-one-one!” Her mom cries. “Oh, darling. No! Why, Livianna? Why?”

“Brendan, I’ll call you back.” His panicked dad hangs up and we’re left sitting in silence.

My vision distorts and my legs start to give out. I fall against the table with my worst fears coming alive. Livianna’s not with us anymore, and with that, I die right along with her.