An SOS—Tucker

It was around 2:30 in the morning, and I was still reading. Maggie had grown tired of the light next to our bed being on, so she sent me into this adjoining living area that our room had. She shut the door, and I can't say that I wasn't eternally grateful that she did so. Because as soon as she locked me in that room, I started sobbing.

I buried my face in the pillow on the couch and cried. Reading the third part of the book was a mistake. I should have listened to Axel. I shouldn't have read part three. I should have listened to him.

My body grew weak and tired. I was thinking too much and crying too hard. I started to feel dizzy. I wanted Axel. I needed Axel.

So I got up, and started walking towards the door. Except before I could get there, I tripped over something and flew flat on my face. I swore, and rolled over on my back to see what the hell has been lying in the middle of the floor.

It was Maggie's purse. All of the contents were spilt all over the tacky flowered carpet. I sighed, wiped at my eyes, and began shoving make up palettes and brushes and sunscreen canisters back in her bag. A copy of our book that had been lying on the ground almost made it's way back into her purse too, but then I stopped. I threw it on the couch, guessing that my copy had fallen off when I got up. Except, when I looked up to make sure the book had safely landed, there were two copies. And one of them had a tiny pink bookmark, that certainly wasn't mine, sticking up at the end of the book—part three.

I swore, grabbed both copies, a key to our room, and booked it towards the elevator. I pressed floor ten, and then waited.