Lark Street.

The road's name was scribed onto the middle plate of a sign pointing in three directions. To the left was Wisteria Cove, to the right Burnham Avenue but just ahead was Lark Street.

Alaska read the sign, over and over as many times as she could before they drove past it. Last night the arrow pointing on had been the very same one which nearly guided her to the end of the road. The elder backroad had taken her trembling hands, whispering sweet nothings of malicious intent into her lonely ears until she went down it. It had promised her eternal soil, where the roots of her decayed form could blossom into something free.

She had driven down it, taking in the shadowy trees glaring down at her like monsters and the fireflies alcoved within them. But tonight Alaska wasn't in the driver's seat and her foot could bear no weight onto the gas pedal.

Alaska tried to tune out the cacophony seizing her by the ears. Unmistakable was the sound of the gravel creaking under the tires, and the sound of the songbirds carrying their midnight tune. Their song eclipsed it's haunting lament in favor of a chipper harmony, falling into a symphony with the chirping crickets. The trees still stood tall, however tonight their lush leaves were inviting and full of vibrance.

The sun had fallen, laid to slumber by the lullaby the forest sang it. The stars and moon proudly shimmered amidst the ebony backdrop, cascaded over the darkness like a beacon. The air's perfume emerged from the ground, an earthy scent of clipped grass and subtle flourishes of rain just like last night.

She tore her gaze away from her unrolled window, and shifted it towards Birdie. She was sitting a seat over from Alaska, face alit by the wonders of the dashing night sky. Little escapades of illumination collecting along her delicate cheekbones, veering away from the shadows of her hair's swaying.

"Where are we going?" Alaska asked. She attempted to dissolve the discomfort from her tone by channeling it into her fidgety hands. She picked the already marred skin around her nails, tugging her flesh like it was weeds in a garden. Her dark hair was framing her face, lavish waves cascaded across her thin, aching shoulders as she drew in a deep breath.

Birdie tilted her head back at Alaska, raising her soft chin. A lingering smile returned to her lips, adding a million watts to her already bright expression. "I told you, we're going to show you what we do for fun," she replied gleefully.

Alaska knit her eyebrows together all while her head revisited it's harsh treatment of her heart. She could have snapped, passing all her grievances out to Thatcher and Birdie to alleviate her pain. She wanted to scream out, shriek like a tortured banshee about the bitter luck she had that they'd drive down Lark Street. Instead, she let knives of isolated despair plummet into her sides silently.

"What's fun about Lark Street?"

"It's not about the street," Thatcher began to explain from the driver's seat. His dark eyes peered at them through the rear view, then flicked back onto the empty road. "It's about what you miss driving past it."

"And what's that?" Alaska asked quietly, fighting against the fire engulfing her throat. She moved her eyes from Birdie to Thatcher and then back again. No matter who she looked to, the undercurrents of simmering excitement bled into the quiet atmosphere. The three kids were still riding the cathartic high of being idiots in a grocery store parking lot. Even Alaska could tell though, this was a new hum of enthrallment.

Birdie shrugged eagerly. "Telling you where we're going would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?"

"Is the surprise that you're going lure me into the woods and axe murder me?" Alaska asked. "Because if so, i'd really prefer for the surprise to be ruined, so I can form a getaway plan, ya know?" As if she'd bother.

"You know what would have been a better surprise?" Thatcher interjected, a naturally playful, petty ring to his words. "If one of you had decided to sit up here with me," a wistful sigh bursted from his downturned lips. "I'm up here on my lonesome, wallowing alone as if i'm a taxi driver," he mused sourly.

"Aw," Birdie sarcastically dragged out. She rested her head on the back of the passenger's seat, disguising a smirk with a pitying frown. "Would it make you feel better if I left you a tip?"

Thatcher pulled his lips together in a mocking way, pretending to think deeply on her question. Just as quickly, he shook his head. "No," he flatly answered. "What does make me feel better is being able to control the radio."

Birdie fell back into her seat with a groan. Alaska smirked to herself as Birdie jokingly pouted. "He always insists on choosing the music," she complained, shooting Thatcher a faux glare.

Alaska chuckled quietly while thumbing over some of her now torn skin. "As long as it's not country," she mumbled.

Birdie and Thatcher wrinkled their noses in unison.

"I'd rather die," he said dramatically before flicking on the busted radio. Alaska instantly recognized the song that had just began to play, Pictures of You, by The Cure.

Alaska relaxed back into her seat, melting her into the plush fabric. Her tension slacked somewhat, unable to remain with the familiar song gracing her ears. She pumped her firsts mildly, mouthing a 'yay' at the same time that Birdie rolled down her window.

Warm summer air rolled in merrily, creating a breeze in the car. Alaska followed suit, smiling despite the plunging the sorrow remaining in her chest. Birdie stuck her hand out the window, and wove it in an infinity pattern to the song's beat.

"I've been looking so long at these pictures of you, that I almost believe they're real."

Thatcher hummed along deeply, etching his mouth into a permanent smile as the song went on. Alaska's vinyl of this album was played to the point she could no longer play it, it still lived in it's sleeve though. She couldn't part with the memories it had been witness to, and the noise it had tuned out for her.

"I've been living so long with these pictures of you, that I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel."

There was something crushing about this song Alaska so adored playing as they drove down this road. It kindled a flame of innocent on the lonely dead end, almost as though Alaska's childhood was sadly greeting the person she was now. The song was a sympathetic lullaby, lulling to put to rest the disappointment she'd wasted her life becoming.

It tasted bittersweet.

Alaska swallowed the saliva salting her mouth, forcing it away along with the knots twisting her stomach. She refused to disrupt the festering anticipation, dazzling excitement Thatcher and Birdie carried. She tapped her fingers against her thigh, moving her hands to the notes. It was muscle memory from the hours she'd spent memorizing how to play the song on her old piano.

"Remembering you standing quiet in the rain, as I ran to your heart to be near."

Birdie gasped brightly before tapping Alaska on the the shoulder. "Fireflies!" She uttered fondly, gazing out onto the brief dapples of light dashing across the sky. The song conjured the perfect backdrop to the bugs, and their light show. The environment of the morose words and the dependable drums were a cathartic rumble through the speakers.

The song was a shade of blue. A current of cerulean was depicted by the heartbreak chorus, a mantra of mementoes from the past. The notes were energetic, painting the instruments in composed inky blue, emitting emotions of the same hue.

Alaska followed Birdie's stare but hastily realized it was unnecessary. At first it was a few of the renegading incandescent insects flying around their vehicle. However, more and more trickled into the space above until they shone more than the stars

"And we kissed as the sky fell in, holding you close. How I always held you close in fear."

Fireflies swarmed overhead, buzzing freely, preforming their routine. All three teenagers paid them their attention. They were just an audience to the fireworks they created, and the oaths of light they left behind as they flew.

Alaska could have sworn there were hundreds of them up there. What must it have been like to hold so much light inside you, she wondered. Admiration flanked her every thought for the tiny beacons, and how they managed to create enough illumination to start a fire in the sky.

"Remembering you running soft through the night, you were bigger and brighter and whiter than snow."

Birdie unbuckled her seatbelt in order to stick her head out the window. Alaska could see the lightning bugs casting a spell onto Birdie, mesmerizing her with their wonderful glow. She kept her balance by reaching to the roof of the car to secure her.

Alaska didn't know if she had ever witnessed such a true display of euphoria. Vivid avalanches of life, and color plunged into Birdie's irises, lending pink pigment to her now flushed cheeks. She grinned- no, beamed, on par with the fireflies.

"You screamed at the make believe, screamed at the sky. And you finally found the courage to let it all go."

Alaska couldn't take her eyes off of Birdie until she slid back into her seat. The kids gazed forward in awed silence, not daring to breath as if it would disturb the beings. Alaska's arms were doused in a layer of goosebumps, as the most electrified feeling roused up inside her.

Her breath was snatched away without panic or anxiety stealing it. Her heart hammered in her chest, beating rapidly in her ears to make up for the quiet. The last time she had seen so many fireflies had been that evening with her mother, at a time far more beautiful and distant.

She knew it would be over soon, so Alaska savored the way her soul was resurrected. Her drained spirit rose from the coffin she provided, collecting the life it was owed. She ran her fingers through her hair, taking a breath that ended up more of a laugh.

"Oh my god!" Birdie broke the silence blissfully. The pure innocence brought back the taste of sweet summer berries, and amber hazes in rolling fields. Alaska's kept her eyes at the window only to be stung by regret.

Her soul was merciless in it's retreat to it's grave when Alaska caught sight of the yellow tape blocking off where the road's safety rails broke. Her stomach churned, cruelly bringing her back to reality and robbing her lapsed joy at the sight. Images of her car veering off just before crashing down the mountain side came flooding back.

Birdie seemingly didn't notice the rapid shift in Alaska's now pale face. She was still soaking up the moment like a sponge. She ran a hand over her forehead and back into her hair with a ecstatic sigh. Shaking her head, she gave Alaska the biggest smile. "Don't you just love being alive?" She breathlessly asked.

"Remembering you, fallen into my arms. Crying for the death of your heart."

Fortunately, Birdie didn't spend another precious second looking at Alaska. For if she had stared a moment longer, she would have been witness to the tear filling her eyes. The water against her jade gaze was soaked in golden pools of reflected light she never could have made on her own.

They were all carved in the borrowed illumination. Birdie and Thatcher were Greek statues, high lighted in the shadows with their best features highlighted. Alaska was a beautiful stela recording a tragedy.

Eventually all good things ended. They drove past the fireflies, and the song ended and switched to some washed up singer's brainless song. Just past Lark Street was an on-look that Thatcher pulled into, creating the start of something new. Whether or not it would bring the same remnants of hope Alaska had managed to recover before, one thing was sure.

Alaska would spend a lifetime chasing, craving and wishing for the high she'd just experienced.

~what part of this story has been your favorite so far?~

Hello lovely readers! I hope so much that you enjoyed this chapter because I am very proud of it honestly! I've had the idea for this scene since before I even named the characters, so I was really excited to finally get it down! If you did like it, please tell me in the comments and consider leaving a vote! Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day/night!

Bonus question: what songs do you think I listened to while writing this chapter? I'll give you a hint, one of them is very obvious!