"lately i've been in the backseat to my own life, trying to take control."

***

The sun is already up by the time my phone rings right next to my ear, jolting me so fast to the point that I'm thinking someone's busted my room wide open. I sit up, heart beating out of my chest and my gaze everywhere. When I see the door still tightly shut, I realised the noise is coming from near me and I scrabble all over the sheets trying to find my phone. When I finally catch the light of the screen, I lift it up to see Dylan's name on the screen. Groggily, I answer while on speaker.

     "Yes?" I sigh. "It's the weekend, Dyl!"

     He doesn't skip a beat. "We need to talk."

     "What?"

     "I'm on my way to your place right now."

     "What?"

     "Just get ready," he says, pausing for a moment. I can hear the sound of the wind and his footsteps crunching on the leaves. "It's about the letters."

     The letters. Yes. I've completely forgotten about them. After reading mine last night, I can't seem to remember much except of the way it made me feel. And I admit, I'm not the biggest fan of the feeling. I guess that's why I forced myself to sleep as soon as possible.

     But the two words. I remember them. I'm trying not to, but I can't. The more I try, the more I fail. West's handwriting pops up in my mind, and I struggle to erase the image. Heavy, heavy. The burden has not been lifted.

     Dylan hangs up before I can say anything else. A rush of emotions flows through my body as I race myself to the bathroom, practically tripping over my own legs and losing my balance all over the place. I'm not awake yet—not fully. And I know it. Yet, I'm still moving. I have to, anyway. When I look in the mirror, I realise that I'm still wearing the same outfit as yesterday. I must've really wanted to sleep then, because this isn't like me at all. I think I just wanted to forget.

     I throw on a hoodie and put the envelope in its pocket. The light at the staircase is off, making me think that my parents are awake because I specifically remember keeping them on last night before entering my room. When they're nowhere in sight, I figure they must've gone grocery shopping. I take a peek out of the window, and sure enough, the garage is empty. I'm one to wake up with the slightest noise, so guess I really was out, huh?

     The doorbell rings as I'm putting on my sneakers. I twist the lock and turn the handle, revealing a tired looking Dylan on the other side—his hair all over the place and his skin pale. It looks like he hadn't got any sleep.

     "Did you just wake up?" he asks, breaking the silence. Way to point out the obvious and make me even more groggy.

     I try to straighten my hoodie and tame my hair. "Is it that obvious?"

     "Do you have some granola bars?"

     "What?"

     He steps in, passing right in front of me. "We'll need some breakfast. I hear it's the most important meal of the day!"

     "Dyl—" I start to say, but I don't bother finishing my sentence. He's already in the kitchen going through the drawers, pulling out some granola bars and stuffing them into his pocket. He holds one out, pointing it to me.

     "Take this, damn it," he says. "I'll explain everything on the way, but I don't want you to starve!"

     What a drama queen you are, I think to myself. I'm tempted to say it out loud, but I decide not to. Instead, I take his offering and place it on the front pocket of my hoodie.

     He leads the way. We step outside and I lock the door, placing the key under one of the flowerpots right next to it.

     His eyes meet mine. In the crispy morning air, the sun hits them just right that they look greener than ever. I stay close and follow him.

***

We walk to a nearby forest. It's technically a park with a biking track, but not many people come here anymore, so the trees are tall and the bushes are all around. There's a playground somewhere around the corner, which is where the crowd is at. It's more quiet here. The air is still foggy and cold as I shiver. Dylan is determined now, more than ever. I want to know why.

     "There's something else other than a letter inside your envelope, isn't there?" he suddenly asks. I stop on my tracks. He turns around. When I don't answer, he says, "Mine has it, too."

     I walk closer to him. "The same thing?"

     "I guess we'll find out."

     As if right on cue, Ocean and Xander comes into view. We all sit on the grass without saying a single word. I think about yesterday and the fun we had at the piano. I think about the smiles on everyone's faces. I think about the photographs on the wall and how they're in a box now. And now we're here.

     Dylan being Dylan, goes around handing granola bars while ignoring the complaints from Xander and questions from Ocean. They stay still, then quietly peel off the packaging of the food and eat it in silence. God, I wish someone would say something. Anything.

     "Okay," Dylan begins as he shifts in his spot. The grass is slightly wet from the winter air and I wish we'd brought a throw or something. "I—"

     "Did you all get words in your envelopes, too?" Ocean interrupts. Her voice is soft, but clear.

     We look at each other in complete speechless. Dylan reaches into his pocket to pull out a piece of paper—his envelope—and soon enough, everyone else does the same. I fiddle with the hem of my shirt for a while, my mind still not processing all of this. Maybe it's just refusing to. Either way, I'm terrified.

     "It's a puzzle," I say. All eyes turn to me.

     Xander plays with the edges of his letter. "What do you mean?"

     "In the letter," I begin to explain, praying that I make sense. The words coming out of my mouth seems to be jumbled up all over the place that I can't even hear myself. "He mentions about loving puzzles so much and that being one of the reasons why he did this whole thing."

     "You mean writing the letters and hiding it?" Dylan asks.

     "Yes."

     Ocean pulls out her letter, unfolding it and scanning the page. Goosebumps rise over my skin. "He was trying to give us a hint," she says. "Listen, this is the last line in mine: Hold on to the words because not everyone knows them."

     No one say a thing and tension fills the air. It is so thick; a knife can cut right through it with a single slash. I feel my heart racing—faster and faster within every second that passes, and I find myself unable to speak. It's as if two arms are wrapped around my neck and I can breathe properly.

     "He's talking about Ann," Ocean says. "That's why she knows about the puzzle!"

      "But I don't get it!" I protest. "What's the purpose of all of this?"

     "We don't know. But maybe there's something else he wants us to know. Look, if this is really a puzzle, then we ought to start putting things together. That makes sense, right?"

     Xander gets up from his spot to move toward us. "There's something else," he starts. "I didn't get any words in my envelope."

     "What?" Dylan asks.

     "I got this," he pulls out a piece of paper and lays in flat on the grass in front of all of us to see. It's a polaroid that I've seen before. But then again, West had photos everywhere so I could never keep up. The borders are clean and there's no tape at the back. He often stuck polaroids in his locker with a double tape so I'm looking for the marks. Nothing. In the frame is complete darkness, almost black. There's a round white dot a little bit off centred. It looks like a ball of light.

     Ocean takes out two papers from her envelope, placing them next to the polaroid. One of her paper is torn at the edge, and I assume it's just Lion and his recklessness. Dylan and I do the same. I'm hesitant, but curious. It's what he wanted, I keep repeating over and over again in my head. It's just a puzzle. Another memory of him. Another piece of him.

     The air around us stays quiet. No birds singing, no car engines, nothing.

WATCHED LAST SLEEP A ME MAN

     Those words—and the polaroid—lay lifelessly on the grass. We all watch closely, as if the words are going to magically rearrange itself into something more. We wait and wait.

     Then in a split second, I got it.

     And when I do, I know that everybody's thinking of the same thing.

     We huddle closer. I pick up the polaroid and put my palm over it in attempt to block the sunlight. On the bottom of the frame are roofs, houses. His house in the middle. I see the shadow of the strings of the fairy-light on the very edge of one side.

     So, it is a ball of light. The moon.

A MAN WATCHED ME SLEEP LAST NIGHT

     My blood runs cold.

***

A/N:

First week of editing done and I'm enjoying this so far; hope you're all liking the changes and where the story's going!

Also, this will be the final update for this week as it is officially the weekend here and I will be doing editing only (no wattpad publishing), so see you on Monday! :)

-Anindya