I came home after school absolutely exhausted. School had just closed and the first breath at home felt like heaven on earth despite the fact that i was knees weak. I rushed upstairs and took a much needed shower, already planning the whole break like some sort of movie, but of course, my main event today was hopping on fortnight with my friend, Brandon. Oh, how i missed all this. I showered for so long i might as well have deep cleaned every pore on my body, i felt porcelain. Stepping out, i felt an odd breeze, one that felt off and i couldnt quite place why. I shook it off, i had better things to do.
Finally i sat down, the gaming chair creaked slightly, it had gathered dust. I didnt hesitate to almost immediately snap on my headphones and go through my contacts, can't have a game without communication. Goodness, i still haven't recovered from the prank the boy pulled almost three months earlier, switching and mix matching all my contacts. It took me so long to re-arrange them, my most awkward experience asking everyone who they were. Despite that, i still aniticipated time together, besides, weve known eachother since primary.
After around two minutes of cluelessly looking for his name in my contact list, he called before I did. Accepting the call, that breeze came over again, this time it felt like it had an actual grip on me, like a cold warning. It made me uncomfortable but I ignored it once again. There was not much I could do, anyway. "Yo, pre-mature ape!" his voice echoed, realising me from the trance. "Oh for goodness sake, I haven't even hoped on yet!" I complained. "Besides, look who's talkin!"
"Headshot!" I exclaimed. Now, it was just me and him. Since it was Battle Royale, I contemplated giving up because of how trash i was at those. Before i even formed a second thought, i was shot. I watched as my characters "Bullet proof vest" was penetrated and he fell, returning to dust. "Defeat" plastered on my screen. "Haha! you suckkk!!!" Brandon mocked. I was fuming but how could I be mad? He won pretty fair. "Ugh, must you be such a pain?" The rheotorical question escaped my mouth. "I blame it on the fact im not playing any music, thats not fair" "You think a playlist can make you any better?"
I ignored the comment and started scrolling on spotify, if I wanted to win, I needed complete focus. Then, there was it again, that dead breeze. It started to become annoying. I wish i was attentive enough at that time to realize not a single one of my windows were open, but i was too determined to win to open my eyes. While looking for a tough playlist to listen to, my finger hovered over one in particular. Its display was a family photo, all their faces blurred. It felt so familiar it was disturbing. I stared blankly at the fullstop that was supposed to make up its name. But when I blinked, It changed, suddenly, my name stared back at me. I almost dropped my phone.
"Oh Pennyyyy??? Penelope?? Did you die irl too??" Brandons words hung in the air like a wet coat. I kept staring at my name on the screen. Why did it sit there so... sweetly? Intentionaly? I held my breath as i reluctuntly pressed play. "Penelope!" The music was somehow peaceful, but in a way that felt like a riddle. It had a catch. It was different, odd. When I checked the name of the song, i froze. "Poppy Julia". The name of my older sister sat there, expectant. So many questions ran in my head. The description was an after thought, and i regretted reading it as soon as i laid my eyes on it."You won't get to say goodnight this time".
"Penelope, your scaring me." Brandons voice cracked. How I wish I responded to him
I tried to turn it off but it wouldnt let me. The peaceful beat slowly turned into lyrics, they were graphic, specific. They stated exactly how she was going to die, every detail. Including the number plate of the car that will hit her on her way home. 'CFM560',the exact number plate i memorized so determined as a child. It belonged to my dad's car. At exactly 6:54 pm, I got the text from my mother that my dear sister had been rushed to the hospital. The song ended in a scream. The next song wrote its own title "Brandon Crimsonsit". Almost as soon as i read the title, our call disconnected. Like the other, the song started with a gentle, soft beat, one used to soothe stressed adults before a grave decision.
It sounded like something that would play in a childs room, one that was supposed to belong to a child that never came to be. Soon enough, the beat distorted into lyrics. They voice was distraught and ragged, like glass was being scraped down the singer's trachea as they tried to sing. Like last time, it narrated how exactly Brandon would die. A simple short circuit that set the whole house on fire. The song described his every reaction with enough description to thrill an artist.I couldnt bare it and tried to call him back desperately, but it wouldnt let me leave the spotify app.The lyrics were soon replaced by his shrill, unadulterated scream, loud enough to raise the dead, it was horrendous, scraping every nerve in my body. I listened in second hand agony as the song described the absolute horror Brandon was being subjected to as he was burned alive, alone in that small apartment.
I felt as if my world was tearing itself apart. I couldnt feel anything, or hear anything but the distort audio torturing my ears. Sure enough, my defeat screen was replaced by news that a whole apartment building was burnt down with only one casualty. By then i had already ran out of tears, i was stripped of whatever touch of reality i still had. The next song started. It didnt even start tranquil, i had already gotten the rhythm. Jokes on me i hadn't gotten used to it. My younger sister, Princess, burst the door open, in her prettiest dress, with my make up plastered on her face all messy. I stared at her bracing for the worst. "Whaths wrong Pepe? Whhy ale u clying?" She spoke with a lisp, suffering from down syndrome. "Nothing, my beautiful princess" I whispered, reaching out to hug her.
Just then, my make up started reacting with her face, her delicate skin peeling from her hairline, revealing a mush of blood and muscle. Her shrill, blood-curdling scream was so ear-piercing my own ears bled. I watched in horror as my sisters face disolved like tissue in acid, her soft little hands scractching whatever was left. She choked in between her sobs and her eyes tore themselves out, melting into the muscle. I puked. The liquid burned my throat like liquor.She lay lifeless on the floor, unrecognizable. The song dimmed silent along with her soul, leaving me helpless.
a ringing in my ears persisted after i had temporarily gone deaf, the image of my sister still remained a blaze in my traumatized mind, the sight replaying over and over. Another song started. I glanced at my phone. For once, the title of the song brought a smile to my face. "Penelope Julica"
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