^ Sky in her outfit and the song I used as the main inspiration for this chapter ^

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H o l l o w s   I n
T    I    M    E
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Groggily, I knew it was Saturday. And someone was shaking my shoulder. I groaned and pulled up the duvet.

"Sky, it's already eleven." Someone told me.

"Then let it be twelve." I replied, burying my head underneath my pillow. But then pillow was taken off, and I heard it drop to the floor.

"I want to take you somewhere. Come on." The voice spoke again and I opened my eyes, frowning as everything was blurred for a few moments. Then I saw Jameson's face. He looked nervous. Reluctant, maybe. As if he was enduring an internal battle—where the side that won wasn't the side he agreed with.

"'Somewhere'?" My voice cracked; I cleared my throat before reaching to grab my bottle of water.

I turned to see Jameson scratching the back of his head, "only if you want."

I wiped the sleep away from my eyes and nodded sleepily. "Sure." Jameson smiled. It was small, the edges of his lips only just turning up, but I still saw it.

I yawned, "what date is it?" I asked. Jameson didn't even look at his calendar before replying. Organised idiot.

"September the twenty-third." He told me.

I rose my arm and waved it around as I let out another roar of a yawn, "You didn't need to tell me the month—I'm not that spaced out." Jameson laughed. Then something hit me. This was normal. This was a genuinely, happy morning. It was lighthearted. Not a police parol of a conversation. I've had enough of those lately, I don't need anymore.

I could only hope that, now that I had acknowledged the calm conversation, that I wouldn't end up retreating backwards out of fear of opening up too much. Opening up was what I had to do. And, on my therapeutic break from all things friends, that only left me with Jameson. So here goes: it's time to see how many secrets I can spill in the space of twelve hours.

And so, I got up and stumbled over to my wardrobe. I stood there for a good ten minutes. Clothes. I looked down at my wrists. They were still small. But I knew that I had put on weight. I sighed, then
I smiled. Clothes. Let's do this.

So I picked out an outfit. The jeans showed some of my ankle, but I decided that I no longer cared. As the warm weather began to die out along with the leaves on the trees, I decided that I wanted to wear a knitted jumper. I couldn't imagine that I'd get hot. It was a sky blue colour, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd worn something blue. Then I found my eyes trailing over to my midnight blue dress. Then the memories danced across my mind, just like we had danced across the ball. The memories glittered, just like my dress had done underneath the light.

In my memories, I was smiling. I was truly happy. It wasn't just a laugh as someone told a joke. It was true happiness. I was light. My dress floated around me just as I floated around on the glass floor.

I didn't understand how I could go from light to dark. Yes, I was indescribably hurt, and that was the biggest factor of it all. I was emotionally damaged and guilty of things that are unfathomable to the natural human mind. Those five months had hit me hard. They had knocked me down. But when you're down, you get up. You don't just lie on the ground and dwell on your mistakes, you jump up and keep walking. So I scrambled to my feet, and I let my heart wander wherever it wanted to go.

"Are you ready?" Jameson asked as he walked into my room. The new light that I had found within me lit up his face.

"It depends what for." I raised my eyebrow at him and he smiled.

"You'll find out soon." He promised earnestly.

"Well then, soon, you'll find out if I'm ready." I replied. Jameson smiled.

"I guess I will." But his voice held a cold chip. Did he hate me? Did I say something wrong? The new light flickered for a few seconds, and then I let go of all the stupid thoughts. The light dimmed by a fraction, but it didn't completely disappear.

Jameson opened the door and gestured for me to leave first. So I did. I realised then that I was willingly leaving my beacon of comfort, and wandering out into the wilderness with a guy who stood on a thin wire between what I wanted and what I feared. And I didn't know which of those sides my heart truly wanted to follow. But I would find out, soon.

We walked in silence. I couldn't tell if it was a blissful scrutiny or a blissful comfort. Or both. Or none.

I was surprised when Jameson led us outside. A warm chill hit me as a gentle breeze rustled through our hair. The silence between us stretched out infinitely.

We walked past the hill. The hill that we had walked up and played upon. The blossom tree was no longer a blossom tree, and healthy green leaves began to turn brown. September would be ending soon, and I knew that when October rolled around, I'd either be healed or broken still. Well, we will find out soon.

I was broken out of my thoughts when Jameson made a beeline for the lake. My body went stiff, but my legs continued to pull me forward. Jameson glanced sideways to give me a nervous glance.

Then I realised where we were going.

The mud near the lake was damp, but not soggy. It was easy to walk along. We took a shortcut round a tree. I slipped suddenly, and Jameson jerked his hand out towards me. I took it and nearly fell into him. But I grasped onto a branch and instead fell into the tree. Jameson looked dishevelled for a few moments, but then, as he saw me staring at it, he turned his gaze too.

And then we were both reading a name over and over again, as the memories plagued us over and over again.

"Why did you bring me here?" I whispered.

Jameson turned to look at me again. I couldn't take my eyes of the name. But his voice sounded worried.

"It's the twenty-third of September, Sky, it's the anniversary.." He trailed off. He still felt guilty. Whilst I was trapped in a cage, he was trapped in his own regret. We were both trapped. So how on earth could one set the other free? Are the keys to our cages the same?

"It's been a year." I murmured to myself.

"A year and one month." Jameson confirmed.

And it all came back. That death-stricken day. And the memories came back again. But they didn't glitter. It wasn't a kaleidoscope. It was a blood-pool of streaming emotions.

"What happened to you at the ball?"

"I decided not to go."

"There's more than that."

"Of course there was, Sky, you're just so blindly in love that you didn't see it."

"You know what you've said to him, you know the way you feel about him,"

"You should've just broken up with me!"

"What do you want me to do?"

"What can you do?"

"Carter, I love you. Just not in the same way that I love Jameson. You are my best friend, I didn't want to hurt you."

Our relationship was dead. And then, next, he was too.

I was aware of all the bodies on the floor. But then I was aware of one in particular.

And it felt like the world shattered around me.

It wasn't happening. This isn't real.

But it was. Of course it was.

My eyes rose and I saw Jameson.

But his hand held a gun.

"What happened?"

"Jameson, what happened?"

"What did you do, Jameson?"

"You killed him." It all set in. It all happened. I sank to my knees in front of Carter's body and touched the side of his face. A pulse. There has to a pulse.

"I hate you!"
"I hate you!"
"I hate you!"

Did I still hate him?

There was no pulse.

"I'm sorry, Carter. I'm so sorry."

I faced a boy lost to a loveless world. All he wanted was my love.

I could whisper nothing else to make it feel better, my previous apologies would ghost around his body, never being heard.

I knew one thing: I just lost my best friend.

Carter is dead.

And then the memories died out awfully. Like the shut of Pandora's Box. And I watched all the memories get sucked into a black hole. And there was once more a lacuna in my heart, where the dark memories had once lain, piled up, searing shadows interwoven through each other.

Jameson shifted. He knew that I had just relived the day. And he didn't know what to say. I looked down at his hands as they rubbed against each other, almost nervously. Those hands had once held a gun.

I had forgiven him before. Just before we parted ways for what we thought would be forever. Yet here we stood, together again. It seems that I'll never be able to lose Jameson. So it must be, then, that I could forgive him again? Or maybe not. Because I only forgave him because I thought I'd never have the chance again. But if I knew I'd have another chance back then, would I have still forgiven him? Or would I have waited?

Then I did something miraculous.
I stopped thinking.

I let whatever happen, happen. Whatever felt right, I let it just be. And I looked into Jameson's eyes. And I didn't see who I had seen for a whole month. I saw Jameson. I saw eighteen year old Jameson. Who cared more than he thought he did. And that got him into trouble. But I had loved that aspect of him. I could feel that I did.

A clink of metal echoed from the depths of my heart. A chain fell. And so did a whisper from my lips.

"I forgive you."

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Me too

I forgive, love and accept you Jameson

Please be mine

Por favor

Question of the day

What's your favourite word

-word

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Next update: Friyay
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CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN SPOILER:

This chapter starts immediately after the end of thirty-six.

How will Jameson react to Sky's words?

Will the pair continue to heal?

And, most importantly, is everything fated in life?