Description
She felt like Cinderella, unconsciously listening to an imaginary clock tick with each passing second. Time was of the essence, but she was completely out. She had enough. Justine raised from her seat and faced him, glaring daggers into his fearful irises as she raised her powerful voice. "I didn't think you were that foolish, Dax. You should be out, trying to live again, trying to find why you were given a second chance! Most people don't even get a single one to begin with!" He got up as well, countering her radiance with his. She continued to speak, her breath coming out as cold vapor in the frigid night. "You're wasting it!" she screamed. "You're selfish! Don't you care how it'll affect others? Those who love you?" "Everyone already thinks I'm dead!" Dax butted in, but she didn't let him stop her with a puny excuse. "What about me, huh? Don't you care about how I feel? You're my best friend! And the first time I lost you was hard enough. This time, it's different. There's new feelings that I've recently sorted out," her voice grew increasingly indecisive and conflicted as she spoke on, her eyes wavering. Then she looked at him with such devotion; her robust glare penetrated his soul. "You should be roaming the world, searching for the one thing that could save you! Death is permanent. You should be out finding that purpose, Dax, not here like an idiot staring at some silly girl who thinks a ghost may love her back!" Tears drenched her face, her eyes puffy and red, but mighty and high. He stepped closer, his flickering form barely touching her very real, live one. They bore into each other's eyes, feeding off the other's presence. Still, he refused to open his mouth and respond. "You should be finding that one thing that makes you happy," she whispered, now unable to peer up into his glowing black eyes. He bent down, his mouth just a centimeter away from her ear as he breathed, "What if I've already found it?"
The Phantom of Scranton Hill
