❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

╰┈➤ 𝘏𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 ended with a glass of soda or a can of beer on the terrace. Usually mostly in Outer Banks. Just not on July 12, 2022. Not for Emma and her twin brother John B, who has been wanted as a murderer for a few hours and since then the two have been about to go into hiding. 

Their friend JJ had given them his dad's Phantom, which fortunately gave them a very high chance of escaping. If only it weren't for the tremendous storm that was already raging over the two. 

"Sarah will be fine with the others. You don't have to worry," the girl promised her brother, laying her hand on his. The electricity was still off everywhere and they could just let themselves drift so that they got away without making a sound and unnoticed. Hopefully. 

John B looked at his sister thoughtfully, couldn't believe how surreal it all felt. 

"I know Em. Ward is the problem. He's capable of so much, Dad used to say that all the time. And now he's dead because of him." Emma took the bottle of water from her backpack and took a sip. "First of all, we should make sure that we don't get killed too and that our family no longer exists. We're only better for Ward dead than alive," she said, calmly holding the water in his face.

 The dark blonde took it from her hand, but only held it in his hands. "Why aren't you showing any emotion at all about what happened there?", he changed the subject, studying his sister. Sometimes he thought he knew exactly what was going on inside her, but then it was almost as if he was wrong about everything about her. 

"Because it was Rafe, huh?", she murmured more to herself, why he might ask. "You mean because anyone else would be shocked at what they did because she just wanted to arrest Ward." She leaned her back against the wheel, introverted. "Rafe was obsessively convinced that she wanted to shoot his dad and a voice must have told him that if he saved him he would finally be proud of him. After all, these are all consequences of his coke - this mental madness. I always knew that eventually something would happen - that was an act of his trauma. Just not the worst kind." 

John B continued to sidetrack his sister for a while, arms crossed over her chest, a strand of hair falling across her face, her side profile so flawless. Still, he saw a stabbing sadness in her unique green-blue eye color. "You're probably the only person who understands him, Em, because you go through the world with such a detailed view that nothing goes unnoticed in front of you. But I can see how torn you are about it," he said, trying his best to be sensitive enough, knowing there were some things she secretly cared about. 

However, before the two twins could continue to talk sadly, the storm threw a spanner in the works. It poured like cats and dogs, soaked both of them completely and the ever-increasing waves ripped them off the boat to the left and then immediately to the right again. As soon as Emma had closed her eyes from the splashing water and wanted to open them again to be able to see, the next wave came and blocked her view again. She even made sure that you couldn't breathe calmly and only went on gasping. To hell with everything. 

"John B?", she screamed desperately but in a strong voice, holding his hand. 

"Yes?" He brushed his hair back and tried to use his free hand to try and turn the wheel somehow, when suddenly the many police boats appeared behind them. "You should know," she swallowed what little salt water she got, "I don't regret coming here for a single day. To you and the others. A lot has happened, but I found what I never had and never thought possible. Thanks. So if we die today, I'll do it with happy memories." There was a lot she'd kept secret about her past, partly because she was afraid it might ruin her happiness. 

John B said nothing. Her words were in his heart and as soon as he noticed the gigantic wave in front of them, he embraced them with his other hand. With wet clothes clinging to each other, the rumble of thunder and police lights behind them, surrounded by everything, the wave smashed the boat and flipped it completely before it was swamped. Then it was over. 

Everything seemed to have ceased to exist. 

: ̗̀➛

The four remaining teenagers sat housed in the white police tent waiting for Emma and John B to be found. Meggi with Kiara and Pope on the bench, hands on knees or clasped with each other. Only JJ was standing on the other end, completely upset, taking off his cape as he saw Shoupe and his colleagues come back, pulling down their neon yellow raincoat hoods. 

Meggi jumped up. "Did you find them?" 

Shoupe's look was pitying, perhaps guilty, to break the news to the teenagers. He shook his head. "We're sorry. They drove in the middle of a storm." 

JJ couldn't take it anymore, couldn't believe that his best friend from third grade would be gone. In addition, his twin sister, whom he had taken just as much to heart. 

"Because you also drove them right into the middle of the storm!", he rejected him loudly and when he replied something, the blonde jumped forward, but Meggi held him by his upper arm and sadly pulled him back. 

"It's not worth it, okay? They won't come back like that, either," she said calmly to the boy, who's mouth was pursed and tears were almost unnoticed rolling down his cheeks. It was no different with any of their friends. Meggi wrapped her arms around him, the two tried to comfort each other. Because while Kiara's and Pope's parents had arrived, who were there for their children, nobody had come for Meggi and JJ. She didn't know where Topper was and on the one hand she doubted whether he was that interested in hugging his sister. 

JJ's dad was probably drunk on the sofa sleeping off his intoxication, not even dreaming about his son. 

The storm was still raging and the raindrops pelted the plastic tent like pebbles, so it was almost as if even the world would burst into tears over the twins. Shoupe and his colleagues left the four friends and their parents alone, moving to the neighboring tent next door. There they were able to give further instructions over the radio without further impeding those affected by their failure. 

Footsteps could be heard immediately, causing JJ and Meggi to pull apart, thinking hopelessly that it might be their lost friends. With a look, Topper's sister made sure that JJ had noticed them too. The blond nodded and started walking. Nothing happened for a moment before someone stepped into the light, agitated. 

"Where's Emma?" 

Meggi shook her head a little, looking at her brother's friend, Rafe. 

"Meggi ... tell me where she is," he urged, and got a little more nervous every second. "I can't find her anywhere." 

"Rafe," she said no, sniffling something, "they're gone. They drove into the storm. They didn't survive that." Denial and gnashing of teeth rose very clearly in Rafe's eyes. His brows knit together, his index finger nervously curled between his lips, and his nose wrinkled in a shaking of his head. 

How could that be?, he wondered. Was that true? Now the blond was really paying attention to the newcomer, causing such anger to rise in his head that he couldn't stop himself and lunged at him. 

"It's all your fault, man!", he hissed, and they both struggled, though Rafe tried to defend himself rather than appear to actually want to fight. "I know, I know,", the brown-haired man sighed dejectedly and gave him a shove so that both of them let go of each other, panting. JJ didn't understand. He was so upset and incredibly sad that his two friends should now be dead. Because of him. It was Rafe's fault. 

"You shot her. Not John B. You should be out there!", he said a little louder and Meggi wrapped her hand around his upper arm and pulled him back again. "Shh. Let him be here, JJ. He lost her as well. Probably even more than we did." Timidly, she gave him a soft look before they sat in the chairs together with JJ. 

Rafe sat further away but had what must have been the most broken sadness in his eyes. So the 3 teenagers sat together for a while, when Kiara and Pope had safely started their way home with their parents. 

3 𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙆𝙎 𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙍

Since the disappearance and possible death of the Routledge twins, Rafe Cameron has never been the same. And he himself probably never thought that something like the death of his mom could ever happen to him. So it was being uninvolved in the world that seemed to have stopped spinning. As if senses had been lost and people had become selfish because the things they owned were no longer enough for them. Or they tried to fill a void that remained a part of them forever, so rare was its healing. 

So Rafe found himself daily in front of the chateau where the others had burned Emma's and John B's names on the thick oak: 

John Booker and Emma Rose Routledge 

09/16/2005 - 07/17/2022 

Both nearly seventeen. 

Some days Rafe just stared up there for a while, sometimes sipping whiskey from a bottle and other days he sat against it, at one point frantically playing back all the memories, afraid that somehow he'd forget them, so that the pain becomes less. And when he walks back to Figure 8 with the bottle in his right hand, his Enduro not in use, he pauses on the beach. 

He gazed out into the vastness of the sea, secretly glancing up hopefully, waiting for Emma to come back. That she wasn't gone and it wasn't his fault. 

He hadn't even finished drinking properly, this immeasurable madness rose in him, whereupon he turned around briefly, took a deep breath, roared and then threw the bottle as far as he could into the sea. But even then he didn't felt any better. 

He read old text messages they had written to each other, waiting for a new one to pop up. Visited old places they had spent time, but as soon as sadness took over he left. And he did a lot more for his dad than he already did. 

Anything to forget her. If only it would work. 

Instead, he dreamed of her every night and the dreams were more painful than pleasant, so there were nights when he wished he could stop sleeping. So it was so overwhelming for him that he constantly doubted it and at the same time fell back into old patterns. So he went back to his drugs because, in the end, "nothing matters anymore." 

1 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙃 𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙃 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙐𝙏𝙇𝙀𝘿𝙂𝙀 𝙏𝙒𝙄𝙉𝙎

"Everything will be fine," my brother assures me, nodding confidently. Cleo and her crew made the small SUV available to us. After all, that's how they get their share of the gold, and it's the least they can do to accommodate us. I don't know what to think of them and perhaps mirror my distrust to them too obviously. Still, I've noticed that Cleo seems to be doing her own thing and we could be her way out into a new life. But maybe I'm just thinking too much. 

"Let me drive then." I hurriedly pull the bandana back over my nose, just like in the usual cowboy movies. But instead of feeling cool, I feel a little nervous and stunned with adrenaline. 

He nods. "It has to be quick, right?" Nothing is happening yet and we remain in our position, Cleo and her boss already in position. "That's what you says who never has a plan or then never sticks to it," I scoffed, looking annoyed because I had the feeling he underestimated me and didn't trust me. But when he is about to start his next reply, a small truck pulls up. Exactly what we expected. 

Cleo holds up her stop sign, stops the car and makes the two men get out. It's hard for me to keep my mind on it for a moment because it's Rafe and I have no idea how long it's been since I last saw him. Maybe it was better that way. Or? 

Rafe and Ward set the kegs aside as instructed, then are held at knifepoint, which is our mark. I nod at John B, dash around the car and am about to yank the door open when I hear the sound of a gun being loaded. 

"Come on!" Ignoring my brother, I reflexively pull out my own pistol and point it at my opponent before I've even looked at him. Why is it none other than Rafe Cameron? Sighing, I stand my ground, deliberately firing once into each barrel for some confusion and distraction. 

"Coward!" Rafe yells, preparing for his own shot as Cleo knocks the gun out of his hand and he just about knocks me out missed. He quickly gets in the car, rips the bandana off my face and drives off, looking straight out the window. 

Now Rafe's face seems to really click. Looks very pale and motionless. 

"Emma?" he says incredulously. 

"Emma!", he yells much louder, angrier and starts to move. "I'll find you, fuckk!" 

I catch a glimpse of his arm movements and heavy breathing in the rearview mirror before all the heat hits my face. Crap. 

I can feel John B's burning eyes on me. "What?" 

"Looks like he blames you for putting him through hell for you." 

"Because he's too soft." I give him a look, push the gas harder, and throw this steering wheel to the left. John B grumbles. "You drive worse than JJ..." 

"Complain again and you can walk," I counter, trying to give us a solid advantage. 

"After all, we have our gold now at least."

𝘽𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙄𝙉 𝙊𝘽𝙓

After the presumed-dead twins returned and my brother was arrested with only a portion of the gold on board, I had to face Rafe too. The very first time before he shot Sheriff Peterkin. But I didn't see a killer in his eyes, just a hurt little boy with a cocaine addiction that made him hear voices and plant alien thoughts in his head. It mingled with my own silhouette, testing everything to get any reaction from his parent. Best appreciation, recognition. It was just always the opposite, hand in hand with a razor-sharp pain of love's never-fulfilling satisfaction. And trying again and again filled with possible hope. So destructive. As if all the lights went out in a person at once, and you suddenly see it flashing in person in his eyes. 

"She wanted to kill him, Emma . . s-she . . . she," he'd groped for words, staring wildly in front of him. 'Yes, yes, that's what she wanted. And now, now I'm fucked 'til the end of my life. It's no good to me that she's dead." He breathes, trying to calm himself and his courteous tears. "I suffer from it as much as she does. As a victim." 

My silence was probably so loud that he just looked at me and screamed silently. Fearful. expectant. 

"You hate me, huh? You don't feel anything towards me anymore, do you?" 

A soft sound escapes my lips. "Rafe..." 

"Shit ha," he ruffles his hair and walks around for a moment. "You were gone and my world was destroyed. Now you're back and on the verge of destroying me, Emma," he points excessively at his heart, "because I don't feel anything except how much I love you." Anger flashes through him for a moment, he wrinkles his nose. "I won't live without you, do you hear?!" he continued afterwards. 

"And I won't let you or my brother end up in jail." I finally speak to him, probably expressing my greatest feelings with pain of my own reaching beyond infinity. There was so much love between the two of us that the two circles of energy didn't overlap, but instead formed a separate, connected one that sometimes intensified all the pain on both sides. It was probably the definition of an equality of souls. Only they were all so... complicated to knit that they had to go through so much? 

"But that's what it's going to come down to sooner or later," Rafe murmurs. 

I shake my head confidently. "I'm going to make my statement." 

He stares at me, stunned, everything seems to be in order. Then I'll have them take me to the sheriff's department. 

Shoupe sits across from me.
"Emma - you said you had important information for me?" 

I nodded sternly. "The day Peterkin was shot - I was there too. And I can attest that it wasn't my brother John B." 

Shope rubbed his chin, sighed. "And who do you think it was?" 

I gave him a sharp look. "Think about it. Who alerted you? Who helped get her to the hospital so there would be no suspicion?" 

"So you're saying it was Ward Cameron?" 

"But Peterkin came to arrest him, too. To keep him from going to jail for murder, maybe he can get away with a second one, which he's blaming on someone else this time." I clasp my hands on the table. "And the gun found was registered of his name. Rafe loaded them, hence his fingerprints on the shell casings." 

Shoupe is clearly interested and seems thoughtful, as if he knows that's how it must have been. "I see." Suddenly he stands up and I see the future clearly in front of me. "Thank you, Emma Rose, for your cooperation. You can go now and we will check your statement." 

Just before the exit, I stop and look at him. My thoughts are silently written in the air between us, he smiles confidently and I know for a fact that everything will be fine. 

All this has come to an end now. We can find our peace, John B and I. 

And Rafe. Rafe will also find his peace, as long his soul is with mine.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜