When the Star and Moon No Longer Meet

I listened to the boy.

Without a second of hesitation, I scrambled to my feet, pushing myself up off the floor.

Ignoring the gasps behind me, I ran out of the banquet hall like I’d lost my mind.

I didn’t know where I was going. I just kept running.

At some point, a stiff card had been pressed into my hand.

Under the dim streetlights, I saw what it was.

A one-way ticket to the south.

Departure time: two hours from now.

I clutched it like it was the only way out and made it to the boarding gate just before final call.

Then a warm hand clamped down hard on my shoulder.

“Jane!”

Ryan had caught up. Wendy was right behind him, breathing heavily.

I held up the ticket, tears streaming down my face.

“Ryan, let me go… please.

“If I don’t leave, I’ll die.”

He stared at the ticket, something like confusion flashing in his eyes.

Maybe it was how real the ticket looked.

Maybe it was how determined I must have seemed.

His grip loosened, just slightly.

For a split second, he looked like the boy who once cared about me.

“Fine. If you really want to go…”

Wendy noticed the hesitation immediately. She suddenly pressed a hand to her stomach, her voice trembling.

“She’s hallucinating now. If you let her run off and she comes back later, what if she hurts our baby?”

The moment the word “baby” left her mouth, the softness in his eyes vanished.

He stopped looking at me.

He snatched the ticket from my hand and tore it up right in front of me.

The scraps fell like snow.

His voice turned cold.

“With me here, you won’t die.”

…

The iron gates of the psychiatric hospital slammed shut in front of me.

Then I heard the lock click.

I looked straight at him through the small window.

“Ryan, I will die here,” I said again.

He stood outside the visiting window and didn’t even meet my eyes.

“After Wendy has the baby, I’ll come get you.”

His footsteps echoed down the empty hallway.

He didn’t look back.

I stopped crying. I stopped pounding on the door.

Because I knew the boy was right.

I was going to die here.

The motion-sensor lights in the corridor suddenly flickered violently. The air buzzed with electricity.

Ryan hadn’t made it far when a deafening crash shook the building.

The reinforced iron door to my room twisted inward, kicked out of shape from the inside.

A faint figure in a school uniform stepped through the warped doorway, carrying me in his arms.

Ryan turned around.

And in that instant, he saw the one thing he had always been most afraid of.