Today, my ex-mom is working as well as my dad. I'm bored and Adriano won't answer my texts. I managed to get ahold of Reyna, but she's on some fancy-schmancy picnic date with Enzo. I even reached out to Maren, but she explained that she was continuing a slasher movie marathon with Ozzy. 

 Maren and Ozzy together? Now that oddly makes sense. 

 Lastly, I contacted Kellin. I've never really been close with her, but I guess she's part of our Victim Squad. I asked if she wanted to go hang out somewhere and she agreed...which means she must be pretty damn bored, too. We decide to meet up at the mall in the best place possible: the food court.

 As I got ready, I  get a call from Della. Obviously, it goes to voicemail.

"This is Della. I'm probably by the phone and if you're hearing this, there's a good chance I'm just ignoring you. So don't call again. Bye." 

 I sigh and replay the message in my head over and over. There's a terrible black hole that once held the place of Adelina. But now she's gone and the black hole is insatiable. I miss her madly. Sometimes we're all together in my dreams – Hanzo, Della, Allister, and Reyna. Even Aero pops up every now and then. But when I wake up, I feel even worse than I did before I fell asleep. I already know my friends are dead. There's no need to dream of their presence to remind me how awesome it was when they were around. 

Some days, I just don't sleep. Not after Adelina died. You could say it's insomnia, but that isn't entirely true. I'm tired as hell whenever I stare at my comfy bed. But I don't want to see Della. It just makes the pain worse. Simply listening to her voicemail is different, though. It gives me a small dose of the person I miss most while ending with a beep. The beep reminds me of a hospital flat line; reminds me that I can hear her message like an obsessive freak, but I will never hear her tease me.

The worst part is that no one can understand the pain, either. Maybe if Enzo died, then Reyna could sympathize with me and we could get through this together – as brother and sister.

I put on some cargo shorts and a striped V-neck, running a hand through my hair and shrugging about its appearance. I've looked a lot better than this...actually, this is the worst I've ever looked in my entire life. Lack of sleep has decorated purple bags under my eyes and my low energy has lowered my standards of how I look. 

 I swipe my keys from the holder on my wall, only wondering for a flitting moment if I'm capable of driving. Every time I blink, my eyelids just want to seal shut and never open. Every part of me wants to sleep but I just can't. 

 So just keep moving, I tell myself. If I can't fight off the killer or my sleep, then I just have to counter it. Move.