"Hen, wake up."

The voice that I knew so well flooded into my unconscious mind, bringing me back from my favourite state of nothingness, to my least favourite state of reality.

I hadn't had any dreams, as of late. In fact, I can't remember the last time I dreamt of anything. When I fell asleep, I was greeted by only the lapse of time in which I was completely unaware.

And, I wasn't complaining. In fact, I preferred it.

I forced my tired eyes open, the daylight streaming into my vision. I knew already that it wasn't morning. It was closer to evening. I knew that because I hadn't fallen asleep until 7 am.

I looked around my messy room, ignoring the piles of clothes on the ground and the hoard of water bottles beside my bed.

I was looking for the face where the voice that woke me came from. I found it quickly enough. Though, I wasn't surprised to find who was staring back at me. I already knew from that god-awful nickname.

"Zane," I said groggily, the trace of sleep sounding from my throat. "Stop calling me that."

Zane's eyes, which had been looking at me with a speck of concern and a dash of inquiry, turned lighter. He let a laugh leave his lips, shaking his head as he did so.

"No," he told me, as I sat up in my bed, pushing the blankets away from me. "I've been calling you that for years."

"And I've told you to stop calling me that for years," I reminded him, watching as he pushed a pile of clothes off the chair opposite me. "Hen,"
I repeated the nickname. "A hen is a literal chicken."

Zane laughed again, "I guess. But I'm still calling you that."

I rolled my eyes, but then I couldn't help but start to laugh with him. Zane could be annoying as ever, but he was still my favourite person alive.

He was one of the only reasons that I was still here, instead of permanently drifting around in my favourite state of nothingness.

"How are you?" He asked me, and though he wore a smile that held memories of his laugh, his eyes still looked at me with concern.

I knew that he was finally started to get it. He was finally starting to understand that something was really wrong with me.

And, he was right of course. Something was really wrong with me. Something was really wrong with my brain. My brain had gone dark.

It used to be colourful. It used to have rainbows and sunsets and hues that changed colour the longer you looked at it.

Now it was dark. And maybe not yet black, but a chilling dark blue.

But, he didn't have anything to worry about. I was still holding on. For now.

"Tired," I told him, tilting my head towards my bed. "Still tired, I should say, thanks to you."

"Well, what are you doing sleeping at 3 in the afternoon, anyway?" Zane asked me.

"I stayed up late last night," I told him, omitting that fact that I had stayed up later than just last night, instead well into today.

"What were you up to?" He asked, looking at me like he was trying to see if I would lie to him or not.

The problem is that me and Zane, we were past that point. Zane used to be able to tell when I was lying, but not anymore. I had advanced past that.

I could lie to anyone, about anything.

I just couldn't lie to myself, not anymore.

"I was here," I lied to him effortlessly. "Playing video games. My mom didn't want me going anywhere."

Now, don't get me wrong. I didn't like lying to my best friend. In fact, I felt guilty as hell every time I did it.

But lying was a means of survival to me, now. If I didn't lie, they'd know. They'd put me somewhere that I don't want to be. I needed to be here, doing what I do. Searching for things that will keep me here.

Because if I don't do that, I'll leave them. And I know as well as anyone, they don't want me to leave them. They're not ready for that. Not yet.

"We were all at Gavin's last night," Zane told me, like I had forgotten.

Of course I hadn't. I just couldn't be there the way that they wanted me to. I was so busy in my mind. They were better off without me there. They'd start to realize that.

"How was that?" I asked, ignoring that question that was hidden in his statement.

"Eh, it was okay," he told me. "O and Cassidy broke up their mouths to come up for air every so often."

That made me smile. A real smile, not the kind I usually wore.

I was genuinely happy that O had met Cassidy. He was so happy with her, it was so easy to see. The two of them were soul mates.

And I know, the thought of a teenager talking about soulmates usually elicits and eye-roll or two. But, truly I believed it. O had found his one and only. It was one less person I had to worry about.

And I didn't worry too much about Gavin, either. He wasn't the type of person who needed someone to be happy. He was just as content being alone than he was surrounded by people.

Truthfully, it was Zane who I worried about.

Zane needed me more than anyone else. Even more than my parents.

It was him that I was holding on so hard for. Holding on with white knuckles. I barely knew which was was up.

"What are you doing tonight?" Zane asked me when I hadn't yet answered him. He had a habit of doing that.

"Same thing I did last night," I told him.

Which wasn't exactly a lie.

Before I fell asleep, my mind stayed stuck on the girl from the graveyard. She was just so sad. She was lost. She was empty.

She felt just like me.

"You want company?" Zane asked me, eyeing the controllers that were beside my TV.

Inwardly, I sighed. Just as hard as I was holding on to life, Zane was holding on to me.

And I don't think he even knew why. He didn't know what I wanted to do. Even in his worst nightmares, I don't think that thought had crossed his mind yet. He didn't know how close I was. I think he just had this gut feeling that he needed to be there for me.

"For a little," I told him, and again, it wasn't for me. It was for him. "I'm not suppose to have company. My mom had a fit about me not doing the dishes or something."

Zane smiled, and it gave me a little peace. And a little guilt, too.

And as always, the hours with Zane passed easily. They were familiar to me, and they were still comforting. I had spent so many hours with Zane, just like this. Filled with nothing, with just companionship.

"You can call me," he said, as he was putting his jacket back on to leave. "If you feel like sneaking out, or if your mom changes her mind. I'll come pick you up."

"Alright, man. I will," I lied to him again, my brain focusing on the pit in my stomach of guilt.

I knew I wouldn't be calling him. I already knew what I would be doing tonight. But how could I tell him that my plans consisted of heading to a graveyard to see if the sad girl was there again?

That wouldn't make him happy. And it would only cause him to look at me more closely, closer than he already was.

After Zane left, I waited. My parents came home. I ate dinner with them. They didn't ask me anything, or notice the look in my eyes. And I knew they weren't doing it maliciously. I knew that they weren't missing things on purpose.

It was more like they grew busy again. Their only child became a teenager and stopped needing them. They become people again. People who weren't just parents. People who had their own lives and their own interests. They had plans again, and goals.

They didn't forget to see me on purpose. It just... happened.

When they fell asleep, I started drinking. Not too much, not enough to slur my words or blur my mind. Just enough to take away some of the weight of the darkness.

Because the darkness in my mind felt like the darkness of the deep, cold, pitch black ocean. Not the blue waves that rest in the sun. The heavy, unforgiving depths. Thousands and thousands of pounds of pressure.

And there was no where for that pressure to go.

I left quietly from my house, not that I particularly needed to. My parents let me come and go when I pleased. I just didn't want any more questions.

The bike ride to the cemetery felt silly. I wasn't even sure why I felt the need to go there again. She wouldn't be there. After all, who gets drunk in a cemetery two nights in a row?

And though I remembered how pretty she was, it wasn't like that. My desire to be near her again had nothing to do with what she looked like. It was no crush, or even a hint of one.

I had just never met someone who looked the way I felt. Like she was under the ocean, too.

Is it better to drown alone or alongside someone else?

When I arrived, I tried to walk as slowly as possible. I tried to retrace my steps from last night, but like most of my memories, they were all a blur.

Things looked familiar, but completely new all at the same time. And just when I had given up hope, I saw the Angel that last night she had been shielded by.

I pulled up my hood, covering my blonde hair just like last night. I wasn't so sure why I didn't want her to know me, or remember me.

I was just sure that I had to.

She looked up at me as I approached her. Her eyes were red again, but this time she wasn't crying. She had a bottle of vodka between her hands, the bottle half empty.

She looked at me like I was a stranger, for a moment. But then, she smiled.

But it wasn't a happy smile. It was a sad smile. A tragically sad, broken smile.

"Alex," Seren slurred. "I was hoping you'd be here."