Finding The 抖阴社区 Words

The first thing Virgil remembered about that fateful day eleven years ago was the noise.

His mom's scream as his dad slammed on the brakes.

The honking of the horn that echoed in his nightmares for years.

The crushing of the glass - was it their windows or the truck's?

What came next in his memories was the lights. The sun was bright that day.

He remembered thinking, while he drifted in and out of consciousness in the wreckage of his parents' car, about the irony of the sunny day. The sun was supposed to be a happy thing. Kids drew it with a smile, possibly some sunglasses, always in the sky above a happy, beautiful scene.

Virgil didn't like sunny days.

Sunny days brought heat, exhaustion, and pain.

"Mom! Dad!" He remembered screaming, shouting the words over and over until his throat was raw. He didn't even know for certain that he was screaming, though, to be honest. He didn't hear anything.

Nothing but the ringing in his ears and the sirens of the ambulance from so far away as it came rushing to their aid.

His dad was slumped over the steering wheel, a smear of blood on the wheel and glass glittering around him.

He couldn't see his mom.

"It's okay, Virgil, love," she gasped out. "Everything's gonna be okay."

She sounded out of breath, her words coming in short gasps.

He didn't see her again.

Virgil sat up, awake in bed in his apartment, the lamp on his bedside table illuminating much of the apartment.He could feel his heart racing in his chest, and he closed his eyes tightly for a moment, taking a slow deep breath until his heart slowed down again. When he grabbed his phone from beside his pillow, the screen switched on to tell him the time.

6 A.M.

Fuck.

He had only just managed to fall asleep two hours ago. Well, there was no way he was going to be able to fall back asleep . Not with the memory fresh in his mind. Not with the sound of the sirens echoing in his ears.

He clamped his eyes shut again and buried his face in his hands, trying to dispel the memories. Trying to block out the sights, sounds, and smells of that day. His fingers fisted into his hair, pulling it at the roots, and his knees pulled up to his chest, curling him in on himself. He opened his eyes after a long minute and the world blurred. He released his hair and swiped the back of his hand at his eyes.

When had he started crying?

Virgil wiped his eyes on his shirt, taking another deep breath to calm himself down. If any of his soulmates were awake, he didn't want his nose to get red as it did whenever he let himself cry. He didn't want them to see. He didn't want them to know he existed.

They were better off thinking it was just the three of them.

They were so happy without him. He would just ruin it.

The way he had ruined his parents.

"Mom, please," he begged, bouncing on his feet with the energy of the small child he was. "Please, please, please. It's the last day it's in theaters. I wanna see it really badly."

She smiled the sweet smile that made him feel warm inside and touched her hand to his cheek. "We'll go after supper, love."

"Dear, are you sure that's a good idea?" his dad asked from the kitchen as he prepared supper. "The roads are a bit icy."

Virgil jutted his bottom lip out in a pout, looking up at his mom with his best puppy dog eyes. She laughed. "I'm sure it'll be fine. He's been good, and he did get his grades up."

When had he fallen back asleep?

What time was it?

Virgil clenched his fists around the blanket over him and took a shaky breath. The ghost of his mom's touch was still on his cheek, and he lifted his own hand up to it, his fingers gently brushing against his skin.

He moved his hand away from his cheek and climbed out of bed. He made his way to the kitchen and stared blankly at the fridge, debating whether or not he should try to eat. Deciding against it, he instead grabbed the headphones on the counter and a bottle of water. He sat himself down on the old rickety couch he had found at a yard sale and opened his laptop.

It had been a gift from his grandma for his birthday. It was the only way he would have been able to have one, considering most of his money before he moved out went towards savings for the down payment on the apartment. But his grandma insisted that he needed a laptop if he wanted to actually work on his writing.

She was so supportive of him and his writing. He never let her read any of it, though. He hadn't let anyone read any of his writing apart from the stuff he did as part of assignments in school. He didn't even know if he was any good. For all he knew, the novel he had been working on for months was absolute trash.

It probably was.

As he read through the last page he wrote yesterday, chewing on his thumbnail, the skin on his left arm started tingling. He looked out of instinct.

"Moving day!" Ro wrote, her words somehow managing to squeeze between the ink that was already there. "I'm so excited to see you guys."

"Good morning, Ro," Lo wrote back. "I won't be moving to Columbus until next weekend, but I am excited to see you two as well."

Columbus.

What?

Virgil opened his web browser and did a quick google search of Crofter's University, the college he remembered Lo and Ro were going to. It was in Columbus, Ohio.

He had unknowingly moved to the same town his soulmates were going to be living in.

Virgil felt horrible. He felt like he was some slimy creeper, and he couldn't stop himself. He spent the day staring at his arms, reading over every word and tracing his finger over every drawing his soulmates had made. They were going to be so close to him, it had been tugging at the corners of his mind for hours.

They were going to be minutes away from him, and he knew only trivial things about any of them. The more he read, however, the more he learned about them. He learned about Ro's family - she complained about her twin brother a lot, but she loved her parents. He learned about where Pat worked - a pet shop actually right around the corner from Virgil's apartment. He learned about Lo's scholarship and how hard she had worked in order to get it.

He got no writing done all day, but he did manage to find a website for freelance writers that he sent an inquiry about. If that went well, he would be able to quit the smelly, sweaty stock job he had been stuck in.

As he waited for an email from the freelance website, Virgil continued reading over the words on his arms. He scribbled with a capped pen over a rip in his jeans. After a few minutes passed, Lo's writing came up.

"Pat, is that you?"

"No..."

"Ro is driving, isn't he?"

"Just got to the apartment. It's not me either..."

Virgil looked down at the pen in his hand. Uncapped. His leg was scribbled with purple ink.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He stood up and rushed to the bathroom, grabbing a wet rag and scrubbing at his leg. His pant leg was soaked, but he didn't care. He needed to get rid of the marks.

But it was too late. They had already seen it.

"Do we" Ro's writing paused before continuing "have a fourth?"