Morning comes too slow.

It’s all like it always is from Matt’s house to Uni.

It starts to feel real at the moment you step on the ladder, heading upstairs for the class.

“It’s going to be okay,” Matt says, and he could have just thought about it, but you’re glad he said it out loud.

“Matt, thanks, I…”

And you two stop on your tracks, shocked at the three figures standing on the hallway.

It’s Carmen and Mary and Liz.

All three of them. Shit, you weren’t prepared to catch them in the hallway. You hadn’t seen Liz since you died and you didn’t expect to…

They look so casual.

Liz looks so pretty, hair on a ponytail and bags under her eyes and that orange dress and denim jacket that look so beautiful on her and…

You’re taken aback by the sound of them laughing after something Carmen says and your smile starts to fade.

They look happy.

And Liz…

She looks okay, happy in a way that makes your chest go tight.

You had been thinking how wonderful it’d be to see them all together again, but you weren’t expecting this. They're standing right there, looking like nothing happened, but something did happen, you died and they're right there freaking laughing and-

You don’t know what to feel, you should be happy they’re happy but also… they’re happy and you’re not there and you wish you were-

“Hey…” Matt starts quietly. “I can… we can…” he waves a hand and you shake your head.

You thought your heart would stop when you saw Liz, and the expectations of this encounter are weird.

You had an awful day yesterday, thoughts of your friends not loving you still wandering on your mind. But… there’s just laughing, that doesn’t mean they don’t love you, it just means… Carmen is funny so it makes sense that…

You were waiting for her for days, why doesn’t it make you happy?

Why do you feel so fucking empty?

“I think we should go,” you manage to say and he looks at you, shocked.

You can’t actually blame him. You don’t understand why you feel so bad either.

Why you just want to run away.

but we came all the way here, thought you wanted to confess, thought you wanted to see her

“I just… can’t be here right now.” You say and look at them one last time, turning on your heels.

It takes a few moments for Matt to do the same.

***

You walk back to Matt’s house in silence.

You don’t ask him to buy grape juice, but he goes to the supermarket and buys it anyway. You thank him with a little smile.

You wish you could feel sad, but you don’t.

It’s something like sadness.

You feel numb, actually. And it’s not the first time, twenty five days have passed since you died and you’ve been feeling less everyday.

You’re remembering less too.

You were hoping it was just your imagination, but no.

You’re forgetting how to feel.

The memories of your mom taking you to nursery school, which were so clear last week, now seem like a blur. You don’t remember anything about middle school or below.

You barely recall the first time you saw Liz, and it was so engraved in your memory.

Liz’ image comes like a flash, her smile. You thought you’d know what to do when you saw her, but instead you didn’t.

You froze.

You even felt more when you saw Carmen and Liz. Or your mom.

Why is this happening with Liz?

Why her?

You love her. You adore her. Everything you did was because of her and…

And is it worth it now?

You were a child. You should have told Matt to stay. Should have tried. Why are you such a fucking coward?

You cover your face, feeling empty.

i wonder if i’m going to hell you turn at the sound of Matt’s thoughts, he’s standing in the kitchen, holding a knife on his hand, just looking down at it and at the milk carton, as if he would have forgotten what to do with each.

it always goes like this, they miss you at first but then

“Matt,” you turn worriedly, Liz promptly forgotten for a moment.

It’s day twenty five and you’re leaving soon and Matt’s standing with a knife on his kitchen thinking about death.

And you’re worried.

"Matt," you repeat, louder this time.

Matt snaps out of it and opens the milk carton, turning to pour some milk on his coffee.

You stand in the middle of the living room, feeling conflicted and guilty and stupid and coward and lots of negative things.

But mostly empty.

It isn’t until the TV is on and it’s past midnight that Matt starts dozing off on the couch, lukewarm coffee forgotten on the floor.

“Death isn’t beautiful, Matt,” he slowly open his eyes, surprised by your straightforwardness. His eyes should show sadness, but he’s long past that, he just looks… hollow and it scares you more than anything.

Because you feel that way too, but you’re dead. It makes sense to you. For you.  Not for him.

He doesn’t reply to that, he just stares, you have no idea what he’s thinking right now.

“They made it look like it is, with the flowers and the speeches, but it’s not,” you whisper. “There’s no guarantee for immortality, no happily ever after.”

He opens his mouth to reply and you interrupt him.

“Don’t go through that, Matt,” you say.