Dusk Till Dawn

WARNING; This is a graphic story.  May be sensitive to some readers.

I got the idea for this story off of juliafox038711‘s Tik Tok, who made a POV (point of view) video using audio from the song, “Dusk Till Dawn” by Zayn Malik.  I’ll italicize the lyrics used in this story and the Tik Tok by juliafox038711.

 

I can’t believe her.

Does she remember that sleepover we had a few months ago?  She told me she was depressed and having some really bad days.  I made her promise that she wouldn’t do anything to herself.  I promised myself I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.  She’s my best friend and has stayed with me for almost ten years.  I went through some really hard times, and she saved my life, twice.  I owe her everything.

And now she’s going to kill herself.

I looked into her window, and I saw her in her bedroom, crying.  I wondered what was wrong. I didn’t think too much of it, as Morada was prone to have crushes on boys who didn’t love her back.  She would cry endlessly over them, sobbing her heart out on my shoulder. Then ten minutes later, she would jump up with fire in her eyes and say,

“We don’t need anyone, Ida.  We have each other,” she would then look at me with a fierce pride. “That’s all we need.”

I believed her, every time.  So, this time, I waited for about ten minutes.  Of course she couldn’t jump and say to me that we had each other, but she would stop after a while, right?

But no.  After a half hour, she was still crying, full steam.  There was no sign of her stopping. I was starting to get kind of worried, so I walked up to her room.  I went through the door and found Morada on the floor, still sobbing.

I dropped down beside her instantly and put my arms around her shoulders.  They went unnoticed by her, of course. She was so distressed, I didn’t know what to do.  She stopped crying suddenly and sat bolt upright. Her eyes were so bloodshot, her mascara running in rivers.  Her short, black hair was stuck up all over the place, but she didn’t care.

She looked around her room intently, then got up shakily.  I stood up as well, thinking that this is where she would return to her normal self.  But she didn’t. She walked slowly to her drawer and pulled out a knife.

I almost exploded right then and there.  I screamed so loudly the lights flickered.  I ran to her and knocked the knife out of her hand.  Part of me, who wasn’t panicking, realized that I had just broken the most important rule, but I didn’t care.  I could feel myself flickering between reality and wherever I actually was. Why did Morada have a knife in her room?

I turned back around to Morada, and I found her staring with her mouth wide open in a scream, not making any sound.  She was staring at the place she last saw me fade in and out of the real world. In my rage, I had been able to become real again, much to my astonishment.  I had been able to move the knife, which I shouldn’t have been able to do.

For you see, I’ve been dead for five months.

I hadn’t taken my teenage years well, and the pressure was too much to deal with.  I had jumped out of a seven-story building and killed myself. I saw the news reports after, and regretted my decision.  My family and Morada were forced on to news channels and had to talk about my life and my death. They had to reveal the suicide letters I had written for each and every one of them.  If I could go back, I wouldn’t have killed myself. It was so hard on my family and Morada. It was absolutely heartbreaking for me to watch from my ghostly perspective.

I don’t know what you call this afterlife that I’m living in.  It doesn’t feel like hell, and it definitely isn’t heaven. I just float.  I stay close to my family and Morada and watch over them, not able to touch them or move things.  Until tonight.

I moved things and reappeared to Morada tonight and I don’t know why or how.

I am jolted from my memories into the present when Morada stands up.  She walks purposefully to her closet and I follow, determined to watch her carefully.  She takes out another knife. I cry out, and try to knock the knife out of her hand again, positive I can manage it.  But it doesn’t budge. Morada looks at the knife like she’s waiting for it to say something. Maybe it does, because she cuts her arm before I can try to take the knife from her again.

I start sobbing, staring at all the blood pooling down from Morada’s arm.  She doesn’t flinch at all, just cuts herself again. The carpet is crimson with her blood.

Morada doesn’t react, but watches the knife out the window.  She looks at it while she says, “Ida, I want this.”

I freeze.  Is she talking to me?

“Ida, I can’t stay here,” she whispers.  “My parents are alcoholics, my brother is in jail, I’ve been doing so badly on all my schoolwork because I’m so distracted all the time.  Before, I thought I could handle all of that, because you were right here with me.”

A single tear runs down Morada’s face, unnoticed by her.

I’m in shock.  I’ve never heard about any of this.  I didn’t even know that Morada had a brother.  We never hung out at Morada’s house, but I never thought anything of it.  I’ve never been inside her room. Was this why?

“But then you died.  I cried for a week. Did you know that?  Did you know what you did to me?” her voice raises almost to a shout, then she chokes.

“I know you’re there.  I don’t know how. I can’t tell what you are or where you are but I know you’re there.  I saw a flash of you. I know you can hear me. So, if you think that I shouldn’t do this, make a sound.”

“Morada, no!” I scream.

She looks towards me and her eyes narrow.

“Say something,” she says, and folds her arms like she used to when we got into arguments.  How stupid those things we fought about seem now.

“Morada, I watch over you.  I know I killed myself and I hurt you and I’m sorry,” I plead, tears running down my ghostly face.  “I haven’t forgiven myself for what I did to you. Please, don’t do this. I’ll hold you when things go wrong.  I’ll be with you from dusk till dawn.

Morada watches me, or watches the wall behind me with such intensity that I start to beg her.

“Please, Morada!” I shout and cry at her. “Don’t do this, I’ll be with you.  From dusk till dawn. I promise!”

“I knew it,” she says in the most disappointed tone I’ve ever heard before.  She unfolds her arms and walks to her window.

I follow, trying to hold her back, screaming and crying and begging her to stop.  But I can’t touch her. My hands go right through her body and nothing stops her from walking towards that window.

Baby, I’m right here!” I wail, my lungs almost bursting.

She crouches at the ledge, and says a few words that I can’t hear because I am crying and yelling so loudly.

She jumps.  I jump out of the window after her, and float down to the ground.  I try to catch her, but just like before, I can’t touch her. She falls right through my arms onto the ground with a sickening crash.  I turn to the ground, in shock. I tried so hard, and I couldn’t save her. She died.

A glowing white substance is leaking from her.

It forms into a pristine replica of the broken girl on the ground before me.  She stares at her own fractured body, then turns her eyes to me.

“Ida?” she says, disbelieving.

I glare at her.  “I was there the whole time.”

Morada’s white hands come up and cover her mouth, her expression one of complete surprise and regret.

“How could you do this to me?” I whisper, looking down at Morada’s body.

“Ida, I’m-”

“YOU PROMISED ME!” I bellow, looking up at her, burning her with my glare. “YOU SAID YOU’D NEVER HURT YOURSELF.  YOU PROMISED!  WHAT DO YOU THINK THAT WAS IN YOUR ROOM JUST NOW? I TRIED TO SAVE YOU, ME!  WHO DID YOU THINK IT WAS?”

I stop shouting, breathing hard and look back down at her body.

Opaque tears start to leak out of Morada’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I just-”

She sighs and looks down at her body, too.  “I couldn’t stay here, Ida. This world is such a messed up place without you.”

I’m not done being angry yet, but I know that I can’t stay mad at Morada. “Listen, I’m mad at you.  I’m hurt, I’m disappointed, and I’m a hypocrite.”

Morada looks up hopefully.

“I made the same mistake.  I regret my choice each and every second.  But we have to live with our sins now.” I say softly.

She smiles a heartbroken smile.

She hugs me and I hug her back, tears leaking out of my own eyes.

 

THE END

 

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this story!

Yours in writing,

Adrienne Parker

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Adrienne Parker

Hello! I'm a teenager who loves to read, write, and inspire. My dream is to write something that will inspire people all over the world. Thank you so much for reading and supporting me!!

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