BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
With a disgruntled moan, Jennelle woke up to the yelling alarm. She hit the clock a little more violently than usual. It's harder to wake up when you fall asleep at three. She sat up straight, then immediately fell back down.

"I can't do this."

She used her left arm to support herself, then pushed upward once more. Jennelle forced herself out of bed and limped towards the fridge, opening it and pulling out some milk. She found some cereal in one of her cabnets and proceeded to have breakfast. After taking a few bites, her doorbell melodiously rang through the apartment.

" It's six in the morning, who would come here that early?"

Staring through the peephole, she jumped in surprise. Jackson was at the door. The Jackson that she thought was gone. The one and only Jackson. Her Jackson. She opened the door, hands covering her mouth. Jackson stood in the doorway wearing standard military outfitting, and his signature white smile. Jennelle almost lept into his arms for a long-awaited embrace, but stopped. The smile of utter glee and joy was instantaneously wiped off her face. The one and only Jackson, her Jackson, was dead. She went to his funeral, she saw his dead, cold body in a blank casket. She mourned for him, she mourned for his family, she mourned for herself. Her sadness overwhelmed her for months. She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't drink. She lost her will to live. She saw herself as the only person in the world that felt this way. Broken and alone.

So how could he be at her door now?

*