A week later, when they released me from the hospital, the same letter was delivered to a few different houses.

Within them lived a merry drug addict, Juliet Capulet and her artist brothers and businessman dad, a lonely, liquor-ridden father, a sweet cheater, and lamenting parents who had recently buried their son.

Within the letter read a depressing request: Please join me in saying goodbye to Carson on this Saturday at 12 pm. Thank you, and I'm sorry for your loss - Avery.

I didn't know what to expect. Maybe none of them would appear. Maybe all of them would. Maybe Carson would be the only one at his grave on the upcoming weekend.

It was Friday night. I didn't know what they did with the girl who murdered Carson Harris. Maybe she was still in her coma. Maybe she was on her way to jail. I followed what the old Katherine would've done: She tried to forget Carson, so I was going to try to forget my best friend. Maybe it was dumb of me, but it was the only logical way that I could possibly fight the pain.

It still hurt to move. Every inch that my body shifted shot pain throughout my muscles and memories directly to my head. I insisted that my mom head to work and that my dad go to the grocery store to pick up dinner. I would be fine by myself for a few hours. I was wrong. I didn't think I would be fine again.

I tried meditation for the first twenty minutes, but whenever I closed my eyes, a fire erupted in front of me and gun shots whispered in my ears. Watching a comedy also failed because the actors made a cheap reference to Star Wars, forcing me to shut my laptop before I could get my tears all over the screen. I couldn't text anybody to come over since I had abandoned my phone downstairs, unable to look at any texts that anybody might've left me. Attempting to do my English work also proved unbearable, as the first line that I opened up to in my notebook was Creon was left to live to suffer.

Despite the pain, I had to get up. The doorbell was ringing. I attempted to ignore the incessant ringing by covering my ears with my pillow, but the person would not cease their effort to get me to open the door. I exhaled deeply as I roughly stood from my safe, comforting bed. I steadied my arm against the wall to aid me in my endeavor. Each step down the staircase forced more and more gravity upon my chest, causing me to hyperventilate. I stared at the ground as I stood on the final step. The floor was right there, but I couldn't manage to get myself to take that final leap.

The doorbell kept ringing. "Go away," I begged quietly. Another ring. Inhale, exhale, inhale. Another ring, and it kept ringing and ringing and ringing and then she fired the gun and the bullet hit me directly in the gut, I should be dead, Carson took a photo and the flash left a ringing in my ear, and the door was ringing and everything was ringing--

Breathe.

Shutting my eyes, I stumbled onto the floor and towards the door. I heaved as I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob, swinging the door open with a soft grunt.

Mrs. Harris greeted me with a woebegone smile. "Hello, dear," she greeted faintly.

"Oh. Hi," I replied with a weak wave.

"How...how have you been holding up, dear?" she timidly asked.

It hurt to stand, but it pained me even worse to stand face-to-face with the mother of Carson Harris. She had to know. Everyone had to know.

"Horribly, Mrs. Harris," I candidly replied with a candid smile. "Everything's gone to Hell."

"It has, hasn't it?" she concurred with an amused glance. We shared the world's saddest smile: Everything was solved, but everything was falling apart at the seams. "Darling, I--"

"I lied, Mrs. Harris. About everything. I never dated Carson. I didn't know that Katherine loved him. I didn't know that he took pictures. I didn't know him. It was a ploy that my lawyer came up with, I'm sorry, Mrs. Harris, I'm--" She cut me off my enveloping me in her arms.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetie," she murmured in my ear, stroking my hair. I wept in hushed sobs into her shoulder. I could feel her smile mask her maliciousness (or perhaps her loathing of me had dissipated as she consoled me). "It's okay, Avery. I understand."

"You...you do?" I choked out.

"Yes. You had to protect yourself. I knew you weren't in love with him, Avery. You're a pretty good actress, but you can't lie to a mother that well," Mrs. Harris said with a chuckle. "Carson would've liked you, though. You would've been a good model."

"Thanks, Mrs. Harris," I replied with a soft grin. I drew away from her as she tapped my shoulder.

"I have something for you," she said as she bent down to pick up something that she had left behind her. She presented a small cardboard box to me. I recoiled in fear: There are pictures of me in there. She immediately noticed my dread and frowned. "Oh, dear, no, I looked in this one. There's no pictures. No threats."

"Could...could you tell me what's inside?" I requested. "I don't really like surprises anymore."

"Oh, of course, sweetie," she replied. "It's a flash drive. That's all I know."

"Then how do you know it's for me?"

"He wrote your name on it, my dear. It's...it's his handwriting this time around, I'm sure of it. I can't believe I didn't notice it last time. That was my fault, dear."

"No, no it wasn't," I replied. "It was all her fault." Mrs. Harris nodded. She looked back towards her car and then towards the gloomy sky. The forecast called for stormy weather all weekend. I almost laughed--rain should've been happening when Carson died, not when his murder was solved.

As I gingerly took the box from her in my quivering hands, Mrs. Harris asked, "Dear, would you like to go to dinner sometime soon?"

"Sure, Mrs. Harris," I replied, whilst simultaneously thinking I can't stand to look at this woman anymore. She smiled, the first happy smile I had seen on her face since the whole thing had started. It was almost contagious. Almost.

"I'll see you, my dear." She began to make her way down my steps when I called out,

"Mrs. Harris?"

"Hmm?"

"I think we should invite Katherine Summers," I said, "because she knew Carson better than anyone." Mrs. Harris's smile dissipated as a tear streaked down her face, her mascara blackening her dark skin as she began to sob. I was about to ask what was wrong when she speedily walked to her car and bolted her vehicle down the street. I realized that maybe the thought of Katherine made her remember a time when her son was alive and a liar.

I clutched onto the box as I softly closed the door behind me and made my way up the stairs.

I plugged the drive into my laptop and waited until Carson's face with a "play" button overlapping popped up on my screen. For just a mere moment, I thought we were calling each other and he was still alive.

I wondered what his voice had sounded like. It had been years since he had muttered a mundane (but overly kind) sentence to me in the hallway. Would his voice be soft and kind, or quick and compassionate, or would it simply be sad?

I pressed play, reclined into my pillow, and held my breath.

Carson taps the camera. "Is this...yup, it's on." He heaves and pushes some laundry aside on the bed he's sitting on. His room is a mess, but somehow looks aesthetically pleasing at the same time. "So, my name is Carson Harris. You probably know that already, Avery."

My heart stopped and I thought that I was dying all over again. His voice grounded me in my room, rather than the spiraling darkness that was about to consume me. His voice is nice, was all I could describe in my head as Carson spoke to me.

"So...anyway, I'm leaving this video here for you just...just in case." He heaves and shuts his eyes. He adjusts the hoodie that he's wearing and smiles. "So, I wanted to start off with: I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you, Avery Carter. I remember seeing you in the hallways, happy and ignorant of it all. My heart would break a little bit every time I saw you.

"See, Avery, you probably don't know this, and I'm sorry that I'm the one breaking it to you, but here it goes: Everyone has lied to you. At least, all of your close friends that I can manage to find. Landon, he's a druggie. I can show you the pictures if I get out of here. Please, help him. Liam is cheating on you. I caught him with Jane one night at Avedon's. And Dakota..."

I stopped breathing.

"She...her real name?--It's Johanna. I...God," he chokes out, wiping his face with his sleeve and clutching his heart with a quivering fist. "In the Accident, I killed her family. I see her in the hallways and feel like ending it all. But then I saw her with you and she's actually happy! Thank you, Avery. You don't realize it, but making Johanna happy--even if just for a little while--is saving my life. You saved my life, Avery Carter. Every single day for two years."

I inhaled and rubbed my blurry eyes.

"I'm gonna go meet her today, Avery, because I'm on a mission. I'm gonna confront everyone that I'm sorry for. I'm sorry for Dakota the most, obviously. I mean, I don't deserve to be here. I would trade places with Joshua and his parents if I got the chance, no doubt about it. But besides Dakota..." He counts off the names on his fingers: "I'm sorry to my parents, because I know that they're only together because of me. I'm sorry to Pierce, because he's done so much for me and I've done so little for him." When he gets to the third name, he begins to cry. "I'm sorry to Katherine, because I've infected her with myself, and she's made me so, so, so much better, but I still can't...I can't do it anymore. We're gonna run away, and I just hope that it's gonna get better. The farther away I get from Eldbourne and Philly, the closer I can get to healing, I think. I don't know how we're gonna live out there, but we'll pull through.

"And last, but not least," he continues, his voice trembling and his eyes welling up with tears, "I'm sorry to you, Avery. I'm sorry that all these horrible, horrible things are happening to you and you don't even realize. I'm sorry that your best friends in the world are just big liars. I'm sorry that I never told you because I'm too much of a damn coward. I'm sorry that I might not even...might not even live to tell you all of this because I've got a death wish--even though I'm absolutely mortified of dying. There's so much that I still have to do, Avery. So many things I have to fix. It's...ha...Katherine said she's gonna give me a gun to defend myself, but I'm not gonna use it. I'm meeting Dakota tonight, Avery, because I'm gonna apologize to her. I'm gonna get on my knees and beg her to forgive me because I can't live with myself if she doesn't and and and--and...and even if she gets her revenge on me, that's okay. Because even though I'm scared, Avery Carter, I'm gonna...be brave. Brave for Katherine, because I love her. Brave for Dakota, because I pity her. Brave for Pierce, because I owe it to him.

"Brave to you...because you saved me, Avery, even if you don't realize it." Someone knocks on his door. He looks back towards the camera and says, "Bye." He shuts off the camera.

I closed the laptop.

I took out my notebook and found the words Creon was left to live to suffer and scribbled it out.

With steady hands and a clear mind, I wrote: Creon was left to live to deny, to be angry, to bargain, to be depressed, and to accept that he was wrong. He was left to survive so he that he could live again.

I sat up in my bed. "Thanks, Carson," I said, arching my head towards the sky.

I would never forget Carson Harris. I would never forget my friends. I would never forget my enemies.

Because forgetting was just a way to suffer.

Accepting what happened was my first step to live again.

And through the tears that drowned me, I smiled.