Remind Me

Chapter Fifteen

OWEN'S POV-----

Tuesday morning, Brinley doesn't come over when she's supposed to. Her mom specifically told me she was still going to stay at my place during the day. Yesterday, her mom said Brinley would stay with her since she was sick, just a day thing. But now, it's almost an hour late, and she's still not here.

Either they lost track of the day, or something's wrong. And I'm willing to bet there's something wrong.

I hurry down to my car, still wearing my sweats, and begin driving the distance to the Shane's house. Anxiety is filling me quickly, even though I don't even know if anything really is wrong. I just have that feeling.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to try calling again, pressing the 2 on speed dial.

"Hi, this is Brinley, I'll call you back when I get the chance."

It doesn't hit me until I'm about two minutes away that I can call Clarin too, since she'll most likely be with Brinley.

She picks up after two rings.

"Owen?" She sounds like she's crying.

"Clarin? Are you okay? What's going on?" I ask, my anxiety at its peak.

"It's Brinley... She's scaring me... Just please-please get here. Maybe you can help." And then she hangs up the phone.

I hardly give myself time to park my car. I'm running up the front porch and into the house. My first instinct is to walk up the stairs and to her bedroom. Her mom and sister are standing outside the door, Clarin against it with a tearstained face. Her mom is standing, hands clasped together, looking concerned.

"What's happening?" I ask as I approach.

"She... She keeps saying..." Clarin tries to explain to me, but fails, sobbing into her hands.

"She's not letting us in. She's thinking irrationally and keeps talking nonsense about herself. I don't understand half of it," she says, tears rising in her eyes. "Please, please try to get her out before she does anything."

"Brinley," I knock rapidly on the door. "Open up Brinley. Please. It's me, Owen."

"What are you doing here, Owen?" She asks, but instead of the hopeful, cheerful voice she usually says my name in, it sounds hostile and mocking.

"I need to make sure you're okay," I say, head resting against the door.

"To make sure I'm okay?" She says, sounding distant. "How am I supposed to know that?"

"Let me in there, Brinley," I say, shaking the doorknob.

"How should I know if I'm okay if I don't know anything else about myself? Who am I? Who are you? I don't even know you," she sounds insane is what it is. She doesn't sound like herself.

"Is there a key to this door?" I ask, turning to Clarin and her mom.

"Yes," her mom says, "But it's in her room. She took it. And even if we could pick that lock, she pushed her desk in front of it."

"When did this start happening?" I ask, eye back on the door.

"I came to get her at six and she was standing at her window, staring out it, just sobbing. Then she was mumbling. Then she was shrieking," Clarin says.

"Brinley, open this, now!" I call, the worry building up in my chest, needing an outlet.

"Everything I'm living right now is a lie," she says. "I'm a stranger to you. I'm a stranger to myself."