"The only difference between a suicide and a martyrdom really is the amount of press coverage."

-Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk

✕✕✕✕✕

Veronica and I shove past tipsy girls and sweaty jocks, ignoring the hellish smell fusion of cologne and perfume and beer. Entering the sunroom, we come to the front of a circle that has formed around Macy and Trevor, one that includes Kat, standing on the other side. My sister glances at me, but from here, in this lighting, I cannot decipher her expression.

Meanwhile, the other witnesses' faces hold varying shades of emotion, from intrigued to confused to anxious. From inside the house, the music softens as I see the drama club and the soccer team and Meatball himself come to the fringes as well.

Yes, this is definitely "the thing" of the year, but if my friends are aware of this, they don't show it. Their eyes, two different shades of beautiful brown, are only on each other.

"Mace," Trevor says slowly, "There's something I've been meaning to do. And I've been pushing it away because I don't want it to ruin our friendship..."

At the same time, Macy quickly says, "Trev, I think I need to tell you something, but I don't want to break your heart..."

Each trail off, mouths parting in surprise as they find they could be on a similar page. And like they're in tune, they both blurt out: "I don't love you anymore!"

Perfectly in time with my heartbeat, nearly the entire party goes silent. A few surprised gasps spread through the crowd, a subtle verbal static that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up straight. Veronica glances at me, second-hand heartbreak painted on her face; I only purse my lips and look away.

A cool chill spreads over my skin as it settles within me that my suspicions have been confirmed. The way Macy avoided my gaze, like she knew her eyes would reveal all that she felt... the way Trevor was worried I'd hated him... they thought they'd be breaking the other's heart. Little did they know they had already drifted so far apart that it didn't really matter.

I can see the confusion radiating through Trevor's expression, his mouth parting and eyebrows furrowing. My eyes dart over to Macy, whose own large eyes betray her surprise.

After a long, frozen moment, Trevor finally says, "You don't?"

Macy shakes her head, those boxer braids swinging ever-so-gently.

"After... after Will died, you started focusing more on the future. And you started drifting away from me. I get that you're grieving, but I just think this put it into perspective that maybe we weren't meant to last past high school."

It's a story I've already heard, but I still feel like I've gotten a stake through the heart as a few kids turn their heads and glance my way at the mention of Will. I try not to shift uncomfortably under the weight of the stares, keeping my chin held high and my eyes clear of any starry sorrow.

Trevor's voice is rough in sound but gentle in tone as he nods in weak agreement. Eyes crinkling in a sad smile, he says, "I feel the same way. You - you wanna be an elementary school art teacher. I want to be a professional football player. Those are two very different things that would take us in two very different directions. I'll always love you, but... I just can't do this anymore."

I didn't realize that's what either of them wanted to be. I guess I've always been so caught up in Will and I's future that I never stopped to ask my friends about theirs. Not that they ever asked me about mine, but you'd think I'd at least be able to assume some of them. Of course Trevor wants to just keep on playing football - that's the whole reason he's become as uptight as he is. And of course Macy wants to be an art teacher - she's kind and caring, creative and peaceful, and just the right amount of flighty. It's a perfect fit for her.

I can just see it now. Macy stays close to home and settles down somewhere in small town New England, while Trevor goes off and plays college before joining the pros by nothing short of a miracle. But as I imagine Trevor holding up a Super Bowl trophy, grinning at the camera as they ask him where he's going next, I can't help but see Will there too, clapping him on the back as Veronica and I cheer from the stands...

No. Will is dead; he vanishes from the picture as dread pools in the pit of my stomach. And I'm not in the stands, either. I'm in a graveyard in rural Vermont, and my soul may be watching from Heaven, but that's not quite the same.

It's hard to imagine how my friends will react to my death. Will it pull them together, push them apart, or do absolutely nothing? Only time can tell.

Still, that back-of-mind thought of my upcoming funeral leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Even as I force my focus back to the problem at hand.

"We're in agreement then?" Macy asks. I think I see her eyes glazing over, before I realize she's tearing up. Beside me, Veronica stiffens. Across the way, Kat is nodding like she knew exactly how this would go and is just calmly watching it all play out. "You're my best friend. But nothing more."

"Right."

Awkwardly, they move forward as if to hug, both hesitating at first before Macy crumbles into Trevor's arms. Suddenly, I feel as though I'm watching through a peephole on a private moment, so I turn my head to the floor.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the ceiling fan whirs to life, making my gaze flip back up. Somewhere, somebody with the remote must have turned it on, if only to save the rest of us watching from the stuffy heat that's settled over the room as a result of the crowd. However, the rickety noise it makes snaps Macy and Trevor out of their daze, as they both blink and take a step back. Murmurs fill the sunroom, and Macy's eyes flicker around before her cheeks go red and she ducks away, leaving Trevor to scowl as he sees all of us watching. We catch eye contact, and I attempt to give him a sympathetic look, but he grunts and shakes his head and storms away too.

Veronica grabs my arm as the circle dissipates around us into white noise and gossip; I reel around to face her as she says, "I can't believe that just happened. Everything's falling apart. And of course it's because of the crash-" she pauses and shakes her head, trying to catch her voice as it wobbles - "God, it's all my fault."

"V, they were gonna break up eventually, I think. Imagine how much harder it would've been as they tried to go to college together, or have a long distance relationship, or something. No offense to them, but they were never made for anything past senior year."

"No, I suppose not," my old friend relinquishes. Now, looking so crestfallen, she doesn't seem as fiery in that devilish get-up as she did before. "That was always you and Will."

We both look away, then, as I frown and try not to think about what she's saying. "That's not what I meant. I just meant that some couples don't-" Before I can finish, Veronica drops my arm and begins to move past me, and quickly I exclaim- "Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm gonna go find Trevor. Whether he and Mace were meant to be together or not... there was one person who would've been there for him before. And I took that person away. I'm trying to make up for it."

And with that, before I can protest, Veronica walks away in the direction Trevor went, leaving me alone in the now-thinning crowd. It's not as though I would've protested, anyway - she has a point. If she wants to live how Will would've, then going to comfort (and perhaps make up with) Trevor is the first best thing. But I'm concerned it will do more harm than good.

Maybe not, I tell myself. Veronica and Trevor were friends once, too. Maybe they weren't as close as she and I, but... they do have things in common. I guess. They're both popular. They were both part of our friend group. They both loved Will.

A shiver trips its way down my spine.

Heaving a breath and knowing that I'll spiral into a panic attack if I stay standing here on my own, I start walking away, not really knowing where I'm going. I can't follow Veronica - she and Trevor's tension is their own problem to work out - but maybe I can find Macy. Or, you know, my sister, who wanted me to come with her but has seemingly disappeared.

The party feels different from before. I can't quite put a finger on it, but it feels slightly altered, like the difference between a convenience store in the day and at 3 am. The juniors and underclassmen seem to care little about the true ramifications of Macy and Trevor's break-up, talking about it like it's simply very interesting petty gossip. But my fellow seniors are acting different. A lot of them are staring at me with pity, even though I wasn't the one who just got broken up with.

From my phone in my pocket, I keep getting vibrations, until I finally take it out and see that about 8 people have texted me and nearly 20 have Snapchatted me. I ignore the Snaps and go to my messages, finding texts from people I'd totally forgotten had my number, saying things like did u kno about trev and macy?? And So, do you know if Macy is single now? If so, can you talk to her for me?

I shake my head and gulp down imaginary acid rising in my throat. Without my mind acknowledging it, my body has walked to the door to the back porch, and as I open said door,I keep my eyes on my phone, hoping nobody in real life tries to talk to me. I click on Instagram and see the first post that comes up is from a cheerleader's finsta, reading,

"y'all realize what this means right?? first will dies, then lila becomes all depressed and whatever, then veronica suddenly becomes a bitch, and now macevor breaks up?? everybody popular from last year is falling down and that's so sad ugh"

This weirdly-worded post reminds me of the flowers everyone used to bring to Will's grave those first couple weeks. It's a shallow form of caring. None of my classmates truly knew Will or me or Veronica or "Macevor". They only bring up the sad parts when things get dramatic - nobody's actually really talked about Will since May. But now, because of Trevor and Macy, he's needlessly part of the gossip again.

Still, the girl has a point. Everything good from last year has faded. It makes me sick.

Without lifting my head up, I step outside. Now, everything on my phone stops loading, and the bars go down to one. Shitty mountain service, I think as I put the device away. Shitty mountain town.

Now, finally, the things around me are calm enough that I can take a deep breath. Nobody is on the back porch, and I'm completely alone with nothing but the muffled bass coming from the house behind me. Next door, I can see a light on in Trevor's bedroom, his muscular silhouette clear as he sits on his bed, back to the window. But he's not alone - no, another figure sits down next to him, and with the horns sticking out of her shadowy head, I recognize it as Veronica. I don't know what they're talking about, exactly, or how either of them are feeling. But I'm hoping against hope that they'll make up, in some way, shape, or form.

This is all too complicated... but if Trevor forgives Veronica, then I'll be assured that they'll figure out a way to get by when I'm gone.

It's like I'm packing boxes to move, I think to myself. And that one was just taped shut. Now, there's only two boxes left.

Kat and Macy.

I know it was Macy's choice to break up with Trevor - so I doubt she needs comforting - but I still want to find her. After that whole thing, she wouldn't have stayed at the party, so I glance to her house, sitting just down the street and to the left, her backyard connecting with Trevor's and Meatball's. The dining room window is lit up, as is Macy's room, but from this far away, I can't quite make out the silhouettes that are in it.

I glance back at the party. Most of the people in the sunroom are practically strangers to me. So, hopping down the stairs from the deck and into the cold, dewy grass, I set off for my friend's. Above me, the sky is inky and black and blue like some sort of wicked, heavenly bruise. Seeing as how it's almost Halloween, I nearly expect a vampire or werewolf or something to jump out at me and steal me away into the night.

In my mind, as I visualize this, I realize I'm not waiting on a vampire at all. I'm waiting on Mor.

I don't know how much stuff is left on my bucket list. But I have a deep feeling that I don't have much time remaining in my sorry existence. Soon, I'll take the reaper's hand one last time and before I know it, I'll see Will and sunshine and true serenity again.

When this whole thing started, I never planned to count down the days to go. At first, I was gloomy and depressed, self-destructive and an overall hot mess. Overtime, it almost felt like I was getting better, but even as I stopped my unhealthy tendencies and made up with my friends and traveled the world, it never truly mattered.

And that was okay. I was resigned to my fate, after all.

But that didn't mean I was eager to die.

And yet, here I am, finding any reason I can to accept the future. Although every now and then there'll be something that will make the idea seem less appealing, I ignore them, because there's nothing I can do anyway. Whether I want to die or not, I am going to.

I just never expected to be full-on suicidal.

When I reach Macy's back porch, I have to force myself to knock. I'm not quite out of my head yet, and a daze has overtaken me as Kenneth - Macy's father - answers the door.

"Lila," he says by way of greeting, his voice deep and stable.

"Mr. di Maggio," I respond. "Is Macy here?"

"She just went up to her room. Your sister was with her, actually. You can come in and go see them."

I blink. Kat's here, too? They really have become close.

Kenneth swings the door all the way open, letting me pass through. Macy's mom is nowhere to be seen, and the bright lights of Family Feud are flashing from the television. Without saying another word, Mr. DiMaggio closes the door, comes back into the living room, and sits down on the couch. I continue past him and up the stairs to Macy's room, which is right at the beginning of the hallway.

The door is closed. I knock, like I did downstairs, and the wood feels too cold against my aching knuckles. Macy's honeyed voice calls out, "Come in!"

So I do, shutting the door behind me. Macy's room, with its hammock and pictures and string lights and many, many throw-blankets, is the epitome of the art hoe aesthetic. The artist herself is sitting on her bed, her boxer jacket thrown onto the pillow behind her. Kat is resting at the edge of the hammock, her posture stiffening as we lock eye contact. Macy, meanwhile, only smiles gently. "Hey, Lila."

"Hey, Macy." I'm hesitant as I walk further into the room, but when she pats the spot on the bed beside her, I slowly sit down. Now, I'm right across from my sister; at first, I thought she was uncomfortable with me being here, but I can see in her eyes that it's the exact opposite.

"Hey, Lila," Kat echoes, voice calm. My gaze slides from her Wonder Woman costume, glinting in the soft lighting, to the pictures on the wall behind her. There's a poster for some indie movie I don't recognize, and a painting Macy did in art class last year, and under that, a collection of polaroids I do recognize. They're from last summer, 2016, when our group of friends all went to Boston together to see a Red Sox game. Among a few others, there's a planned shot of the 5 of us in front of Fenway Park; another of Macy, Trevor, Will, and I in Boston Commons; and a candid of Will and Trevor with sparkling crimson and white end-of-game fireworks behind them.

I'm smiling so brightly in all of them. Will's smiling so brightly in all of them. My heart hurts.

I turn my eyes away from the pictures to Macy. Hoping to take my mind off of Will, I ask her quickly, "For how long were you planning to break up with him?"

"I just decided to this morning," she replies weakly, her voice growing stronger as she begins to ramble: "But I think it was a long time coming. The only thing that has been connecting us together as a couple for the last few months is the word 'couple' itself. People wanted to see us together, y'know? I guess there's that whole cliche thing, because I'm a cheerleader and he's a football player... but it was getting harder to keep up appearances."

"I didn't realize..." my voice is hollow. "I didn't realize you'd drifted that far apart."

Macy glances to Kat, then stares at the floor, before continuing:

"We're still friends, y'know? Best friends. He and I and later Meatball have hung out since we were in braces," she shakes her head, looking out her window for a moment in the direction of the party. "But we knew it wasn't going to work out in the long run. We've pretty much been broken up for months now, and we're finally admitting it to the public. After... Will's death... I think we both realized that life is too short to hold on to one moment in your life forever."

So much for not thinking of Will.

I try not to let my emotions - whatever they are - show on my face, but it's hard. I can feel a scowl forming, and teardrops in my eyes. Goddammit Lila, I think to myself. She says his name once and you nearly burst into sobs. At least you could keep a straight face before.

"I'm sorry-" Macy begins to say, but I wave my hand dismissively.

"It's fine. I'm just being sensitive. This isn't about me. Let's-" I blink back and sit up straight. "Let's go back to you."

Kat and Macy look at each other, concern in the former's expression and guilt in the latter's. However, after a moment, Kat finally goes back to the subject at hand, asking, "What were people saying, after we left?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly. "I wasn't fully listening. Veronica ran off after Trevor and then a few people were talking about how 'sad' it was on finsta, but that's mostly all that I saw. I wasn't really paying attention. I just wanted to know how you felt."

A small smile curves its way into Macy's glossed lips, as warm and glowing as the lights around us. For a moment, I can almost see the naive girl I befriended in 3rd grade art class, nearly a decade ago, who complimented my shitty drawing of a toucan after the teacher told me it "needed work".

We were both so different then. And although Macy's never stopped being her sweet self, even as our friendship has ebbed and flowed... she has changed. I can hear it in the way she talks.

"I feel good," she says after a moment. "Like I can finally be honest with myself."

Something unknowable alights in her eyes as she once again turns to my sister, who gently smiles back. I glance between the two of them, trying to figure out why they keep looking to each other.

"Since when did you guys become such good friends?"

"We've gotten... closer since that all-nighter we had together," Kat responds, suddenly shifting uncomfortably in her roped seat.

"We have 4 classes together, so we've gotten to talking a lot," Macy quickly adds. "We have a surprising amount of stuff in common, like music and stuff."

Even though my heart warms a little bit at this, it's not enough to make me fully smile again. Still, I say, "That's so sweet. I'm so glad one of my friends is one of your friends now, Kat."

Kat gives me one of her You can't be serious looks. Macy coughs, although it's quite obvious it's fake. And then I realize - that emotion in her eyes is the same emotion I used to hold every time I looked at Will.

"Oh my god," I blurt out, my neck going cold. "You two... you two have, like, a thing, don't you?"

This is why Kat was worried about taking over my scene. She isn't just befriending my friends, she likes one of them!

For a split second, I'm terrified I've got it all wrong, before Macy, of all things, laughs. Kat blushes, though from embarrassment or infatuation, I can't quite tell.

"Is she who you've been running off to all these weeks?" I exclaim. "Like after... after Abuela died, and stuff?"

Kat rubs the back of her neck. It startles me to see my rock so flustered, but it's a good kind of startled, especially as she says, "Well, not only that, but - and for the record, I already told her this - but, she's the one I said I liked when we were in Paris. I've liked for a while now, actually. She's the reason I realized I was gay."

I think back to our night in France, what feels like so long ago, when my only companions were my sister and my reaper and the music of the Viennese Waltz. I don't think I'd ever once stopped to actually consider the candidates for Kat's affections, nor had I ever expected Macy DiMaggio, of all people.

"Holy shit." I shake my head in disbelief, and slowly, a miniscule smile finally comes to my face. My attention back to Macy, I ask, "So are you gay, too?"

Her tone is final as she explains, "No. I did love Trevor, once, even if it was just infatuation in like, sophomore year. And I think I had a crush on Meatball's older brother in middle school. So... I guess I'm bisexual. But my parents don't know yet."

"Neither does my mom." Kat makes eye contact with me as she says this.

"Well," Macy says confidently, "We'll figure it out together, then."

My sister gives the biggest grin I think I've ever seen from her. Nodding eagerly, and keeping her gaze on her new girlfriend, I suppose, she agrees, "Yeah."

The innocent tenderness between them reminds me too much of Will and I, circa 2014 or so. I try not to flashback to gleaming August days of strawberries and cotton candy skies, but it's hard, especially as rose gold and ivory as Macy's room is. I realize that's why I like the lighting so much - it makes it look like there's a beautiful sunset waiting just outside the window. Or a carnival waiting just down the street. Or a boy waiting just across the cornfield.

"That's... that's awesome." I'm not lying - it really is awesome, to find my most loyal living friend and my sister so happy together - but, inexplicably, it's hard to choke out the words. I can't tell if it's a emotion thing or a PTSD thing as coldness spirals in my stomach. "I'm so happy for you both."

It's hard to believe my sister is already old enough to date. I mean, she's only a year younger than me, and I dated Will since I was 14, but sometimes when I look at her, I still see us sitting in the backyard as young children, trying to see who built the new treehouse behind the ranch on Fiddler Elbow's Road.

She's different now, just like me.

Realizing I'm in the middle of their moment, I add, "I suddenly feel like I'm interrupting something. I'll, uh, let you guys go."

"Oh," Macy says, looking up at me as I stand. "Okay. Thanks for stopping by to see if I was okay. And thanks for the support."

"Of course."

Beginning to walk back to the door, I stop with my hand on the knob and turn to watch as Macy speaks again:

"And, uh- you said somebody ran after Trevor?"

I can practically feel my eyes darken. "Veronica did. Which sounds like a recipe for disaster, but..."

Kat crinkles her nose in contempt at the mention of her most hated person in Ashdown, but Macy just shrugs.

"I think that could turn out well. Maybe they'll become friends again. Veronica could learn a little humility from him, or something."

I don't say anything to this; I feel like I've already been here long enough, and I'm not opening a whole new thread of conversation. So I just give the girls a pained, probably incomprehensible look, and exit the room. Just as I'm closing the door, I hear Kat say disgustedly to Macy, "What if they started dating?"

"Ha! Then we could go on double dates."

My body's chill grows worse. I close the door before I can hear anymore.

Knowing there's no way in hell Kat would ever agree to go on a double date with Veronica - and, more than that, knowing there's no way in hell Trevor and Veronica would ever date - I try not to let the comment bug me. But it does, anyway, because long before all of this, Will and I used to go on double dates with Trevor and Macy. I know it's corny, and I know we don't have a copyright on double dates or anything, but it's still the final nail in the metaphorical - or perhaps, slightly literal - coffin. How things used to be... they really are over.

I've known that for months. For God's sake, all summer I was convinced I'd lost the entire group. It's not like I'm just coming to terms with it now. But every reminder of the fact, even as old as it is, still hurts.

And I don't think how I'm feeling right now is just in response to tonight, anyway. It's months of emotion spilling out at once. I want to hit something. I want to jump off a bridge into the New Haven River. I feel like I'm dying.

Mr. DiMaggio doesn't say anything as I exit his house the way I came in, burning cold pulsing at my abdomen, like when you drink too much and you can just feel it sloshing around in your intestines. I don't know why I'm so freezing, but it's all internal. It's not like when Mor is there, ready to whisk me off to faraway places. It's an emotional coldness. Every last bit of warmth has finally been sucked away.

When I reach Macy's shadowy yard, I don't quite know where to go. I can't go back to the lights of the party buzzing on only a few houses down, considering my closest friends have all left, but I don't want to go home, either.

I look up at the sky again, and see something I didn't notice before. Polaris is shining brightly. It's the only star Will knew, the only one he could name without failure. It's always been my guiding light. It's always remind me of him. It's the only thing left unchanged of what used to be.

Everybody really has moved on - Veronica and Macy and Kat, the drama club, and even the football team, as hard as Trevor tries to keep Will's memory alive. Yes, when I look at them, I may sometimes see the people they used to be... but they've all become their own persons now, too, and I know one day they'll leave this glimmering town and do something better with their lives.

It's an opportunity Will never got to have. It's one I'll never get to have.

Sometimes I get those thoughts, those worries, that they'll miss me when I'm gone. That I shouldn't go through with this whole thing, that I should fight against my fate, just for the sake of sparing Ashdown from another funeral. But what does it matter if I do die? Everyone will move on eventually. There's only one person who couldn't live without me, and he's-

"Now, Lila, I've told you, that's no way to think. You know your friends love you."

I stop in my tracks in the middle of the yard and spin around, mud squelching beneath my shoes.

Mor is standing there, wearing only pants, shoes and a button up shirt. He was reading my wildly open mind, again.

"I was not," he says, "Though I am, now, I suppose. But I wasn't before. You were muttering to yourself. I could hear you."

My eyes widen. I didn't realize I'd become one of those people who mutters to themselves.

I try to gulp down this surprise with another: Mor is back. It hasn't even been two weeks since I last saw him, and I'm sure we probably went longer in the earlier Autumn months without seeing each other, but it's different now. He's my gateway to Will and vibrancy and the end of my constant mental breakdown. I think he's also my friend. I'm shockingly thankful to see him again.

"Thank you for the tickets to Hamilton," I say in an attempt to change the subject from my mental health to something lighter. My voice is extremely shaky. "Where were you? What dragged you away?"

"Don't change the subject, Lila," Mor replies, to my chagrin. "Are you... are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I lie, my voice aquiver with the threat of tears.

"You're suicidal."

My heart drops.

I've recognized that part of me within my own mind. But it's strange and uncomfortable to hear it from someone else. Especially when that someone's whole job is to kill me.

"It doesn't matter. I'm meant to die anyway."

Mor cocks his head, ever a curious black cat, and takes me in for a moment. As he does, I look him over. His skin is just as sickly pale as before, and his bruised lip has not gotten any better. But his expression is different tonight. It's softer, more so than ever, like he's facing his own emotional crisis.

"You know, Lila," he starts after a minute, "When I got your file, I expected something different. I knew your interests, and that you struggled with PTSD and depression, but I thought you'd be... different."

A second passes, and then another. I glance down at the ground, at my filthy high tops and asinine costume. When I look Mor in the eyes again, I feel even worse than moments before.

"I was different, once," I finally respond, breathless. "I was vibrant and beautiful and whole. How can one traumatic event change that much of my personality?"

I feel the tears begin to press gently aginst the corner of my eyes as the Autumn wind blows across the yard. The North Star is still above me, but its light is now more blinding than guiding.

After another frozen moment, Mor steps towards me. "There's somewhere I'd like you to see."

Turning, I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand and whimper, "Where?"

My reaper does not respond.

Instead, he just holds out that damn hand of his. Like he's finally, totally lost his edge, his arm is quivering, and I can see sadness and guilt in his own eyes. What about, I cannot tell.

I don't take his hand. I stand there and stare at him, hoping this is a joke, hoping I've already completed my bucket list and there is nowhere else to take me and this will be the night I die.

More tears form in my eyes. Mor lowers his eyebrows, and, his voice weak, hums, "Baby, take my hand, don't fear the reaper."

Oh my god.

It's that song, the one which I don't know any other lyrics of, but of which I know the guitar solo by heart. Visions flash before my eyes. Red hoodies and red blood. Smoking metal and pine and linen. Hazel eyes, so alive with light, so dead and frozen as they stare at me lifelessly.

"Where," I choke out again, "Where are you going to take me?"

"Some place where you'll be closer to the thing you want the most."

That's all I needed to hear.

Forcing down a sob, I latch my cool hand onto his freezing one. He tugs me closer, and for a moment, I feel as though I am falling.

Distant music and small town light disappears within an instant. That godforsaken cold becomes beautifully natural. It's no longer just within me - it's around me - and it's no longer an indicator of my anxiety - it's just the temperature of the air. Yes, wherever Mor takes me is freezing, like Paris or Finland all over again, except the air here is dry instead of heavy with snow.

I don't close my eyes, but my vision still blacks out before soft, shadowy shapes dapple my sight. It takes a few blinks to fully take in what's around me: ash trees.

There's other kinds of trees, too, but I only recognize the type that my town was named over. We're circled by them, like the grove on the one hill in the Hundred Acre Woods, just beyond the cornfield behind my house.

I feel a startling sense of familiarity. That stormy evening Mor and I first met, he flew me to the Ash Grove to prove his powers to me, and we stood there as the rain froze above us and I interrogated him about his species and his world.

But this isn't Vermont. There's a strange, gray tint to the land around me, matching the stale, smoky, almost rancid scent of the atmosphere. In the distance, I think I hear music, and the sky is just barely filled with yellow-silver light pollution.

My heart feels heavy, and my pulse is sluggish, and somehow I feel like I'm in a dream. In front of me, I see my tears slowly lifting off of my face and floating away; when I reach out and touch them, they pop and disappear, like bubbles at a carnival.

"Where... are we?" I ask Mor. I don't think this is a place I ever dreamed of going.

"No, you haven't." Mor confirms with a sigh. "Although you've asked me about it many times. Welcome to the Realm of the Reapers."

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A/N: It was on this day one year ago that William Reed Nyquist died.

Rest in peace, lovely. Your girlfriend's story is not over yet, and by extension, neither is yours ;)

Oh, by the way, I thought I'd clear something up. Will's death was on prom night, and that was May 29, 2017. Yes, I'm aware that's a Monday, but I have a logic for it - they had prom that Monday, then they had off the next day (Tuesday), and then they had open campus finals Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. I was talking to one of my old friends who goes to school in New York and he said that's similar to what his school does. 

New England is weird.

Anywho, yes, I know this chapter is late, and I'm sorry. But there's not much left! Next chapter, Lila finally gets a look into the forbidden world itself and meets some reapers - including her old buddy Amara. This should be fun!

Until then, positive vibes, and stay awesome!

xoxo, Athena

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