Novels by Volare Via

‘A broken hip or two is nothing compared to what is happening to me’ Katcha rationalizes to herself as she led Goldie through the narrow hallway of her dormitory building. ‘I can’t believe I’d even think about that.’ ‘No, if she just trusted me, her chair wouldn’t have broken.’ ‘I could have talked my way out of it. My lie sounded solid, right?’ ‘Goldie can barely talk. He would’ve been sent out of the dorm after she asked him about his major.’ ‘I could have said he was mute, or maybe he was a foreign exchange student. ‘ ‘But it’s all over now. Her hip should be the least of my worries’ ‘Ironic coming from a med student’ Katcha sighs as she stops in front of her dorm room. She pats the sides of her hips, feeling for a pocket and a lump where she expected her keys to be, but she realizes that she is still in a dress, one that she wore while she watched Charlotte spit out blood. Why her dress remained pristine was beyond her, though it hardly mattered to her anymore. There were

'Goldie?' The name fails to leave Katcha's lips as she catches him bringing his index finger up to his lips. Unblinking, her eyes follow his index finger move to her shoulder, and tap the sling of her backpack. With furrowed brows, she assumes that he was asking for her bag, so she reluctantly slides it off her shoulders and hands it over to him. He zips it open and rummages through it for a moment. Not long after, he pulls out her phone, picking it up with his index finger and his thumb, while the rest of his fingers stick out awkwardly. He brings it close to his face and looks at it with a curious glint in his eyes as he rotates the phone. “What?” Katcha beckons him. Goldie changes his grip on the phone, now grasping it with his whole hand tightly. The phone’s screen splits and cracks, earning a gasp from Katcha, She lets out a cry as she sees the device getting crushed and crunching in his hand. She lunges at him and grips his arm, eyes wide and desperate to salvage what was l

Katcha stares at her senior being wheeled into an ambulance, her head is lulling to the side as her eyes slowly roll upwards to the back of her head. Her bloody hand held those of her parents. Her jaw shook as her mouth tries to form words, but could only come up with more blood streaming down her lips. People began to gather around the building, murmuring amongst themselves about Charlotte’s condition, and how something like this could happen. The shooter has been long apprehended and came out of the building with his head low, the police keeping a tight hold on him. In the crowd, Katcha notices a face spectating as well, and his eyes were set on the shooter. She meets his eyes and catches him slowly disappear into the sea of people. Her half hooded eyes soon widened upon recognizing her hand unconsciously touches her chest as she comes to realize the sinking feeling that is starting to surface within her. ‘How could they? We had an agreement “Darryl?!” She

“I don’t know how to draw. This isn’t working.” Darryl buries his face in his hands in frustration as he lets Goldie stare at his chicken scratch scribbles on the notepad. He had spent around two hours trying to draw a man shoving Goldie’s head into a bucket of water, but he can’t quite figure out the anatomy and physics behind it. Goldie tosses the notepad back to him and gives him a thumbs-up, only to receive a scowl from the other male. “Don’t fucking patronize me,” Darryl sneered as he takes the notepad away. He looks back at his poorly done illustration and sighs. “Ugh. Just give me the shawarma. I’m hungry.” On the other side of the city, in the university where Katcha is currently spending time in, she continues to cut off ribbons, but her bandaged finger sticks out from her field of view, eventually making her lose focus yet again. She fiddles with her bandaged finger, tempted to peel off the gauze to see if the cut has healed. She tri

Katcha steps into a multi-purpose hall. There were around five people - all her upperclassmen - occupying the barren space, each of them tending to one part of the room with either decorations or cleaning. A girl with black shoulder-length hair is carrying a box full of decorations, picking them up one by one and putting them back again as if she were only checking their contents. Katcha walks closer to her to get her attention. “Hey, Charlotte!” The other girl looks up, her sleep-deprived eyes instantly light up upon seeing Katcha’s face. “Oh! Katcha!” she exclaims with glee. “Is there something I can help you with?” Katcha glances at the box in Charlotte’s skinny arms. “You sure you don’t have any lectures or requirements that need to be done today?” “Yeah. I’m free for today.” “I’m so glad. My batch-mates are either asleep or still have shifts in the hospital,” Charlotte sighs in relief, “Some of them are probably too

Ten in the evening. Katcha’s damp uniform hangs on the warm side of a fridge. An empty pizza box lays discarded on one of the kitchen counters. The trash can is filled with hair, plastic gloves stained with dark brown hair dye, and a one-liter bottle of mountain dew. Darryl enters the scene, seeing Katcha washing the dishes. “About Capiz…” he begins, “When do you want to go?” Katcha’s head turns a bit to the side for a moment and goes back to facing the dishes in front of her. “Is it fine if we go after the farewell party?” She replies. “So, next week?” “Yeah… We’re really going? I didn’t expect you to agree with me earlier.” “Goldie freaks me out. I need to know what he is before we all get in danger." Darryl leans on a wall and crosses his arms, “If you somehow got powers, and if I get to know the cause of all of this… I think I’ll be more relieved.” Katcha sets down a wet plate on the drying rack and turns of