If The World Was Ending

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Day Four 4:30am

Chapter 11:


Day Four 4:30 am


I can’t believe that I almost kissed Mila.

Mila Carter, the girl who has lived opposite me for two years, the girl who’s hidden away, maintaining an aura of mystery and the girl who despises me.

Well, used to despise me.

I don’t know what came over me. I’ve always been intrigued, somewhat infuriated that I could never win her over. I’ve never known someone so adamant about disliking me and it easily became a game to jokingly wind her up because doing so meant interacting with her.

She’s always been beautiful, but watching her grow and come out of her shell over the past few days has added to her beauty. I finally feel like I’m seeing the side of her that I always subtly noticed but died to see in real life. She’s alluring and last night, I felt transfixed.

One side of me wants to explore the feelings from last night but I’m not even sure if it’s possible. Who knows what kind of possibilities I can uncover but with only six days left, there may be no possibilities to discover at all.

But I can’t ignore the fact that right now is the time to delve into situations. Freefalling at a high speed, enjoying the rush of the adrenaline before you come crashing down to the nothingness.

Rolling over, I hit my alarm clock to check the time; 4:35 am. So far, I think I’ve managed a total of two hours of sleep. The combination of video games and the mixture of fantasies and fears over Mila have resulted in yet another restless night. At least this time, the nightmares of the unknown about the 20th of August aren’t keeping me awake but I’m certain that they’ll creep back in as the date gets closer.

I need a distraction.

Pulling my laptop up from the floor next to my bed, the brightness of the screen temporarily blinds me. There’s nothing that a bit of getting lost in the world of the internet can’t solve.

The news reads the same stories that have sat there for the past four days. Reading the articles at this time feel the same as reading a horror book during a storm, home alone. It’s to be avoided at all costs.

Clicking open a new tab to check my social media feed, I can’t help but smile at the most recent post by Matty. A collage of photos from the party a couple of days ago shows the group of us being our usual goofy selves. Matty and Tyler are playfighting whilst Lexi watches, rolling her eyes. Mila stands next to me, smiling confidently in her red dress, her hair washing against her tanned shoulders. Clicking through a few more pictures, I spot us on the dancefloor, all of us as high as a kite. Harry’s arms hold Mila close, in the same way, I did at the museum last night and I’m left cringing at the sight of Summer throwing herself at me.

A few more posts scroll by at the click of my fingertip. There are posts about conspiracies regarding the sun burning out, there are people that are mad at the world. Some people have even snapped photos, posing in front of the crimes they’ve committed. Assaults, theft, arson attacks, they’re all displayed online for the world to see.

Just as I’m about to check out Lexi’s pictures from the party, a new post catches my eyes. The user has posted in all capitals, clearly showing the importance of their message. As my eyes scan the words, my body begins to tingle with excitement. Now is the time for possibilities and I think I may have just found the biggest possibility yet.

‘THERE ARE REPORTS THAT A FLIGHT IS DEPARTING TO THE GREEK ISLAND OF SANTORINI FROM LAX TODAY AT 8 AM. PILOTS ARE PILLING AS MANY PEOPLE ONTO PLANES AS POSSIBLE FOR ONE FINAL TRIP TO THE SUN. NO PAYMENT, FIRST COME, FIRST SERVE.’

Rubbing my eyes a few times, I try to make sure that I am reading it properly and am not in a dream.

A free trip to Santorini, leaving in three hours? Day’s in the sun with Mila? Count me in!

Scrolling through some questions, hundreds of people are already stating their interest and asking further questions. The user states that the flight is the only free part, accommodation must be booked but obviously with only limited space for passengers, some people will be booking hotels and not managing to travel there.

I flick the switch on my lamp, lighting up my room. The black and modern features illuminate from the warm light, the start of the sunrise adding a hint of natural daylight.

As I mentally begin to make a plan for the next few hours, I begin my search to find accommodation for Mila and me. This could be the first and last thing I payout for so I’m more than prepared to splash a bit of cash on getting the best place possible.

With each second that passes, hotels, and villas sell out as people jump on websites to book. Clicking onto the third page of listings the ideal place finally catches my eye.

A two-bed villa, lined with an infinity pool, overlooking a luscious beach where the sea shimmers a sapphire color. This is the kind of place that is fit for a celebrity. King-sized beds stand out in the whitewashed rooms. A lengthy couch sits in front of a massive TV, the marble, modern kitchen standing behind it before unveiling the opening french doors which lead out to the pool. Light wooden decking hosts sun loungers and four-poster day beds, stretching out to the glass pool, giving the scenic sea view.

My cursor rushes towards the checkout, allowing me to enter my bank details and secure the villa for Mila and I. All we need to ensure now is that we make it onto this flight. With just over three hours until it departs, we need to get organized.

Closing my laptop, I place it in the drawer of my nightstand, grabbing my passport whilst doing so. The apartments and the streets are quiet, the only noise coming from the clattering of clothes hangers whilst I pull items of closets from the closet, throwing them into a suitcase.

I walk into my bathroom, the mirror light causing me to squint. With a toothbrush, brushing, in one hand, the other stretches up allowing my muscles to release the overnight tension. Applying some hair gel before packing it, I quickly zip up the suitcase, dragging it across the floorboards towards the door.

I pat myself down, mentally checking for the holiday essentials. Happy that I have everything I need, I turn the lights off and lock the door behind me. I know that I won’t have time to go back as I need to make sure Mila is ready in time.

My knuckles brush against her green apartment door, ready to face her fury as I wake her up. With three loud knocks and a few shouts of her name, I hear her feet heavily marching towards the door.

“Warner, I swear to god. What do you want?” Her voice is raspy yet her frustration is poignant.

“No time to waste, sweetheart, we have a plane to catch!” I smile, walking into her dark apartment, allowing her sleepy eyes to throw daggers at me.

“What do you mean? Why have you got a suitcase?” She asks as she pulls out a kitchen chair.

I grab her arm, not allowing her to sit down. A tired Mila equals an unproductive one and that’s the last thing I need right now.

“We are going on vacation!” I smile, admiring her in my grip; her dark eyes washing over the joy in me, longing to match them.

“When?” She frowns.

“Mila, Mila, so many questions.” I moan, rubbing my hand over my face.

She shuffles out of my hold, turning a lamp on next to the couch. She threatens to sit down again but then notices that by the look on my face, I won’t allow her to.

“Let me get this straight. You’ve woken me up at five in the morning to tell me that we’re going on holiday?” Mila ignores my frustration over her questions, still trying to gain some kind of understanding towards this early morning call.

Instead of answering, I open my phone, showing her the post I saw online. Her eyes scan the page, reading over the first few sentences multiple times. As it begins to sink in, her face shifts, easing towards a smile similar to mine.

“You’re kidding?” She says but this time it’s not a question, it’s more of a statement full of a mixture of disbelief and thrill.

“I’m not but we need to hurry up or we won’t be able to get seats.” I warn, gesturing at the wall clock.

“Where will we stay?” She calls, running towards her closest to grab a suitcase.

“I’ve sorted it. It’s a nice villa with a seaside view.” I shout back, walking towards her room to help her back.

We work like a conveyor belt; Mila throws items of clothing at me and I fold them up, packing them neatly. We could easily be mistaken for a broken couple, one being thrown out by the other, their belongings leaving with them but instead we were two wandering souls, seeking thrills and adventures- finally working with each other instead of against.

“Are we crazy.” She asks, pausing whilst untangling a strappy jumpsuit from a hanger.

“Duh.” I reply, laughing.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Warner. What if something goes wrong? What about everything back here?” Mila fires out worried questions, stopping the flow of packing.

“Like what? We’ve not exactly got anything to leave behind. Plus it’s only for a few days. Come on, I guarantee you’ve always dreamed of going to Greece. It’s artsy and full of that cultural crap that you like.” I tease.

“Don’t piss me off Warner, it’s too early.” She moans.

“Where’s your vacation spirit? The sun, sea, good food awaits us, you must be excited.” I paint out a picture for her.

“You know that I don’t usually do this stuff. I’ve just got a bad feeling.”

“When don’t you have a bad feeling.” I roll my eyes as hers look hurtfully at the floor.

“Mila, do you trust me?” I ask, my voice becoming softer.

“Just about.”

I throw her a look, urging her for a better answer than that.

“Yes, I do.” She huffs, unwillingly admitting the truth.

“Then let’s go.”

I zip up her case, placing it on the floor next to mine with a thud. By the look on Mila’s face, I can tell that she’s still hesitant but like everything we’ve done over the past few days, I can’t let Mila overthink things, or it just won’t happen.

“Also, I’ve got a hold of your passport and if you don’t leave this apartment in the next thirty seconds, I will look at your passport pictures and throw you the most cringe-worthy compliment I can come up with.” I joke, knowing that her self-confidence will be going into overdrive at the idea of that.

“Don’t you dare.” She laughs, panicking, chasing me around her apartment.

I catch a glimpse in her mirror of the two of us running around, her face determined yet full of laughter, whilst I dangle her passport out of reach. I throw open her door, waiting for her to follow. As she locks the door I hand her passport back to her.

“There you go. This time you win but I promise you that I will see that picture at some point.” I smirk, wheeling my case down the hallway.

“Ass.” She mutters yet she continues to follow behind me.

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