15. Phone

It took me a few minutes before I could move again and my head cleared.

"You wanted to look into her past, what happened?" Henry asked, as he helped me up.

"I saw her future, I couldn't control it."

"Did you say I was dead?" I asked again.

"Yes." Henry took a step back and met my eyes before grasping my jaw.

"Your eye-colour has become redder."

"I will try again." I wanted to know why my vision didn't match reality, and I felt high from the experience just now. The woman with the hands called me, and I reached out to touch Henrietta when her brother grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

"No, we will go." He said and brought me out of there, back to the stone wall.

"Wait." Climbing up, he reached his hand down.

It took it and was pulled up before we jumped down together. I was still dazed when we arrived at Henry's apartment, where I was sat down and was served water.

"Why are you so nice all of a sudden?" I asked him in suspicion.

"I am not nice, but you were dead and needed AR to come back." He motioned for me to drink the water and I followed up.

"How was it? Death?" He sat down on a one-seater and shook his leg. The topic was clearly agitating him.

"It was....like sleeping. Nice. Like a good deep sleep." I said wholeheartedly, somehow feeling very well rested, and still a bit in a daze.

"No pain, no worries?" Henry asked, his eyes not letting go of any expressions.

"Nothing, but not in a bad way, really like a dreamless sleep." I could see him leaning back and letting out a long breath. Maybe that helped him. 

I took my phone out and switched to the front camera, looking at my eyes. 

I always had reddish brown eyes since I remember, but a good part of my eye-colour had gotten redder after the morgue. As if more red colour were mixed in to the reddish-brown.

"What the hell." I was stunned and changed my position to see better before Henry stood up and came with a hand mirror back.

Now seeing it better, it was even more fascinating.

"Is it red like this when I look into the past?" 

"No." Henry shook his head,

"Way redder, bright red." He said, propping his head up on his fist.

I really wanted to film myself the next time I read someone.

"Your eye colour did not change when you looked into my past when we were in your apartment. But it did both times in the morgue." Again I was told some new pieces I couldn't put together.

"Hm." Not any wiser, I checked my phone for the time.

"Is there a new entry?" I asked, being reminded that it was way past midnight. Henry stayed silent, so I opened the website and saw that there was indeed a new one.

Henrietta talked about how we exchanged numbers, and that she had started to like me. I read through it a few times, not understanding what I had before me.

"I'm really... I am so fucking clueless…did your sister have a mental illness?" I looked up and saw Henry's blue eyes turning dark with a warning.

"Do I have a mental illness?" I asked into the room, not so sure anymore.

"How would I know?" Henry scoffed, his voice becoming deeper, the hatred back, as his body taunted, ready to attack me.

"Henry." I put the mirror on the couch table and bend forward.

"I have never exchanged numbers with her, I have never talked to her outside of school." Like a broken record, I repeated this one fact.

Sighing, I took my phone and unlocked it, throwing it to him.

He caught it and stared at me.

"Look through it. I don't care." I saw him tapping on my phone while I leaned back and closed my eyes.

I was really being too fucking nice, although he had only thrown shit on me since our first meeting. 

"Who is Elisa?" He asked me.

"Ex-girlfriend." I said, not opening my eyes. The future I saw of Henry carrying me all bloody into the woods was still bugging me. It was how stony he looked, and how tightly he had pulled me to himself. 

"Chelsea?" 

"The girl you flung away from me before you choked me." We were classmates for a while, so I had her number. She texted me these two days that she would be absent from school because she got injured herself, with the whole ordeal at the party. Her ankle had swollen when she arrived at home–Henry's fault.

If he had been the one attacking me prior to my vision starting, there was no need to carry me like this, he could have just dragged me into the woods. I could perceive that he was on my side, bringing me somewhere I could get help, as stupid as it sounds. If I had seen him butchering me, I wouldn't have slept in his presence or followed him to the morgue.

"Jordan, Omar, Danny."

"My friends, you saw them in the nightclub." I answered.

Now, after a trip to the morgue, I got myself a near death-experience and a vision that could never be the truth. Henry could lie about how Henrietta's room had looked like, or he could be unaware himself–maybe the twins lived apart at some point. But Henrietta looked no younger than the last time I met her, there were no shadows under her eyes, her whole continuance was different.

What the hell is going on here?