The flash blinds me, did I get so unaccustomed? I blink a few times and then I find myself on a small protruding ledge of a mountain.

A real, freaking mountain. And not a little one at that.

Screaming my head off, I grab hold of the wall behind me, but there isn't much I can hold onto. Next to me, some pebbles fall down and with wide open eyes I look up.

Someone is hanging on a rope. Is he climbing? Keeping my hand protectively over my eyes, I stare a few minutes at the bungling legs and then I gaze down. I can't even see the bottom, that's how deep it is. Is this a suicide attempt?

When some more pebbles fall down beside me, my eyes fixate on the climber again and while I listen to the tock tock tock of a piston getting jammed into the rock. I try to calm my nerves. This is a book, nothing can happen to me, I tell myself. Would the same be true when one is falling of a mountain? Because there is such a thing as a stress level, or what ever it's called. You can see it in films where they are given a virtual body or something like that. When you die in the fake world, your head can't cope, etcetera. Oh please, continue the story, I want to get out of here.

If I could, I would crawl even deeper into the wall, yet I can only close my eyes and hope for the next scene.

That arrives faster than expected and is a lot less pleasant. I hadn't thought it possible. On the other hand, I could have guessed it. The main character is after all a boy in a wheelchair, this must be the prologue.

He falls. Almost giving me a heart attack, by landing at my feet. And even though girls usually like cute guys to fall for them, this is a little too literal for me. The boy falls, is unconscious and gets picked up a few hours later by a helicopter that was send to look for him, after nobody heard from him any more. I learn all that from the rescuer, who pulls me aboard.

We fly to a hospital, where the boy, Finn is his name, is diagnosed with a spinal cord injury. Even worse than Sorley's. Finn will be paralysed from his chest down, for the rest of his life, with only limited use of his hands. He can't do anything himself any more and has to learn how to live all over again.

I almost quit. I this how Sorley felt? I see up close how Finn gets temper tantrums and shouts and screams until he's almost out of breath. Other moments he locks himself away from the world completely and doesn't speak for days on end.

He attempts a suicide, but it fails and I cry together with his mother when she pleads with him to at least continue the examinations. That hope, that gets smashed. Every time.

After what must be the hundredth doctor who wants to try something new, I leave the book. I don't need to hear anything else.

Whether Isla, in some gush of wisdom, knew this would happen, or if she was just hoping I would be able to talk about it again, I don't know. Neither can I agree for one hundred percent, that she's done me a favour. Finn's situation is different from Sorley's, yet now I can understand a little bit of the frustration Sorley must have felt, when I mentioned a solution. Even though nothing bad happened to me inside the book, and even though I got the full use of my legs again after my little accident, the doctors constant believe they'd discovered the golden egg, drove even me mad. Imagine how Finn must have felt.

It takes me an hour to realize I can't possibly fall asleep like this and after a few very deep sighs, I turn on my night light. Growling, I grab my phone and I growl even louder when I see it's been half past twelve. I'll be a wreck in school, tomorrow.

I tap on the WhatsApp icon, scroll down, see the thirty and immediately turn my phone off again.

In the dark, after turning my light off as well, I stare at the familiar shadows. The curtains, the large wardrobe, my desk and chair. I've slept here my entire life.

I'm a wimp. What's the worst thing that can happen? Yes, he'll see I've read his messages. Unless he already deleted the entire chat.

– Click – With my eyes half shut against the bright light, I grab my phone again.

My thumbs look for his name and before I can stop them, they tap on the thirty. Traitors.

This message was deleted

This message was deleted

Seriously? Don't you think this is a little exaggerated? You could at least have waited a few more hours and said a normal goodbye?

Gran wanted to make you lunch. I hope you enjoy your airplane food.

This message was deleted

Okay, sorry I sounded so rude and for my behaviour. Gran says it's my own fault you ran away. I think I expected more.

This is were I leave the chat, turn off the light and almost throw my cellphone on the floor. How dear he? After everything he said to me. And then he expected more? Exaggerated? I'll give him exaggerated.

I turn my night light back on, toss the book from my night stand because of my wild movements while getting my phone, locate the chat and scroll through the messages, looking for the end.

Along the way, my eyes begin to read the words and my thumb slows down.

Zara, please. I'm an incredible idiot and I want to delete everything I wrote above, but it seems I can't. So please forget it and text me back.

I know I deserve it when you never want to speak to me again, but let me explain. I want to explain but I need to know you'll read this.

Alright, I'll try, maybe one day you'll read it. Maybe one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me. It was stupid of me to get so upset. I took all my anger about those useless examinations out on you and that didn't make any sense.

Zara, I can't do this on this stupid little screen, please, can we meet one more time? You can yell at me all you like and if after that, you never want to see me again, I'll leave you alone, but at least let me explain.

The message after that dates a few days later.

Zara, I'm begging you, at least text me that you've arrived safely in the Netherlands and didn't crash somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean.

The last few messages were send shortly after one another.

I understand and I'm sorry.

This is all my fault and I'm going to try my best to make everything alright.

I'm sorry, Zara. I'm going to miss you.

My eyes are wet and when I blink, a drop falls on the screen. When I rub it away, the chat moves along and this time I slowly read them one by one.

And then I scroll back to the older ones, when everything was still right between us, until I hide my head in my pillow and cry my eyes out.

What am I to do now? It's been over a month. Surely he doesn't expect an answer this late. Should I respond? Or just leave him thinking I've read it and deleted the whole chat after that? And if I should respond, what should I say? Sorry? And what if he texts me again for a chance to explain, do I want that? And if I never want to see him again, what's the use of responding anyway?

I locate the phone I dropped on the floor and text to Isla: Look what you did, you idiot, now I can't sleep any more.

I get no answer. Of course not, it's two in the morning.

Thinking about school, I finally decide to make an attempt at sleeping. Even if it's just for a few minutes. Lying awake, worrying with the light on, won't help much in any case.

---

It's a miracle I fell asleep after all. Not until I lay awake for many more hours, or at least, that's how it felt like. However now it's morning and I feel terrible and need to hurry, because I only have half an hour left.

At school, an innocent looking Isla hangs around my locker. She clearly read my text.

"Yeah, just pretend you know nothing. I hate you."

She beams at me and asks: "Did it help?"

"If by help you mean that I've been awake the whole night, finally read his messages and cried a river, yeah, then it helped."

Isla at least has the decency to look a little bit ashamed.

Oh, I'll forgive her for sure. I just won't forgive destiny, for bringing Sorely and me together in the first place. What was the purpose for all this? Our cursed gift, his handicap, me being in love? Why did we ever have to meet, when it only caused misery and heartbreak?

I resist only a little, when she throws her arms around me. "I'm sorry, Zaar", she cries near my ear, and then, more softly, continues: "Perhaps I shouldn't have pushed you with that book, but you've been so absent lately. You miss him, clearly. And no matter what he has done, I think you are still crazy about him, so I just wanted to provoke a response. Any response."

She leans back and looks at me with puppy dog-eyes.

A heavy sigh leaves my body. Then I grab her shoulders and gently shake her before I lower my arms in defeat.

"Was I really that much of a zombie?" I thought I'd done pretty well, I even celebrated my birthday, but Isla is nodding fervently. It's a good thing my dad doesn't know me very well. He didn't suspect anything. And my mother is so busy with her own stuff, she won't even notice when I die my hear pink. Well, alright, she might notice that.

Isla is the only one who truly knows me, the only one who saw the change in me and now that I look back, I have to agree. I buried myself in work. Not just my job at the boutique and my schoolwork, but also when I was finished with those, I kept thinking of ways to occupy myself. To keep myself from having to think. The house has never been cleaner and even though it's barely September, our backyard is completely ready for winter.

A new sigh finds his way from my toes to my lips. I still haven't decided whether or not to text Sorley back, however it's about time I begin to live a little again. And that means showing my face in the library and not run in fear when someone mentions a book, or boys.

My decision is probably visible in my eyes, because Isla lights up like a Christmas tree and puts an arm around my shoulders.

"So, now that you're back from zombie-land, can I share my wish list with you for my birthday?"

"Your birthday isn't until next year."

"Which gives you plenty of time to get me the perfect present, because I really, really want something from a book. Something nobody else has. Oh and I wondered, you can take clothes with you out of the book, right? Can you go into a book with really expensive shops and pick me up a designers brand something? Like that coat we saw the other day that costs eight hundred euro?"

Surprised I hold still. I never thought about that.

I squint my left eye and wonder. "Don't you think that's a little too much like stealing?"

"Stealing? From who? You said yourself nobody notices anything in the story. That the next time everything is exactly the same as before. We can stock up our entire wardrobes without anyone getting any poorer for it. How awesome is that?"

There is still a frown on my forehead when I enter my first classroom. Is it really that simple? But then you can take anything. Money, jewellery, food. I would never have to work again, ever.

With eyes open wide I sit on my chair, staring at the board.

"Zara, is anything the matter?"

I blink, look to the side and find my teacher raising his eyebrows at me.

"What? Oh, no, sorry. I was distracted."

"Try to pay attention. You'll need this for your exams."

Because he says that about almost every subject, I don't worry very much when my thoughts stray from Biology almost instantly when he continues the lesson.

I can't seem to shake Isla's bizarre suggestion and when it's time for a break and I wait at our usual spot for the rest of the group, holding my cellphone, I'm almost tempted to text Sorley to ask him what he thinks of it. Almost.