“There are no signs of a sexual assault, Merry,” a kind voice replied.  “She was definitely strangled though.  Her neck has a lot of damage.  Her disks are swollen and there is severe bruising.  Don’t be surprised if she can’t talk for a few days.”

“Thank you for coming over so quickly.  When she didn’t come home last night, we were so worried then first thing this morning she appeared like a ghost out of nowhere…I can’t imagine who would do this to her!”

“The world is going to hell,” a third gruff voice cut in.  “It’s all those damn businessmen visiting.  They think they own the world just ‘cause they have a nice suit.”

“I don’t think that’s fair, hun.  We don’t know it was one of them,” the feminine voice replied.

“But you did say she got roughed up a bit early this last week by a gentleman?” the kind voice inquired.

“Yes, but another gentleman stepped in and stopped it before it got serious.”

“I will inform the sheriff.  He will want to look into both men.”

“Thank you, Greg, for coming so quickly.”

“It’s no problem.  You know we take care of our own here and Aless has been a wonderful girl.  I can’t imagine who would do this.”

The voices faded as footsteps sounded.  Aless didn’t open her eyes.  She hurt even in the soft bed.  She didn’t want to see the world around her and its bright colors. Aless was tired, so very tired, and she was sick of the inhumanity of the world.  She was an idiot. 

Cain was right.  Cahan was right.  They all knew and told her she was a naïve idiot.  Trusting everyone or at least giving them the benefit of the doubt.  What was wrong with her?  If she kept it up, she or, even worse, one of her friends would be dead in no time.  They’d never make it home. All because she didn’t have enough sense to stop trying to be friends with people.  Deity!

Soft tears slipped from her eyes.  Oh, Deity!  She could have died.  Then what would Kayla do?  What would have happened to her?  Her father would never know.  Danny would never have known.  She would have left everyone.  Idiot.

Turning onto her side, Alessandra cried silently in self-pity until she fell asleep again.  This time she dreamed.  She dreamed of her funeral with everyone there.  Her father stood stony-faced, watching her casket.  Kayla cried openly in Jesus’s arms as a quietly weeping Rafita held onto his pant leg.  Everything was in bright colors except for her.  Her body lay in tones of black and white, a gray form in a bright world. 

Aless cried as she watched her friends and family come to her body and say goodbye.  She didn’t want to be dead.   She didn’t want to be dead! 

“No!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. 

No one stirred or even heard her.

“No! No! No!” she repeated.

Stamping her feet, Aless pulled on her hair in frustration and fear. 

“What a marvelous idea,” a smooth voice interjected. 

Spinning around Alessandra saw a golden-eyed boy standing next to her, his eyes absorbing the scene with glee.  He was so familiar to her, but she couldn’t place him.  He reached for and then held her hand tenderly.

“If they all think you're dead, they won’t look for you,” he continued.

Cruelly, he laughed at everyone’s pain.

“You are so wicked, my Ale.  So very wicked indeed.”

“What?  No!  I don’t want to be dead!”

“You won’t be, my love.  It’s just pretend.  Go see for yourself that you still breathe.”

The little boy pushed her gently forward and so Aless slowly approached her own coffin. There she lay in stony silence and washed out gray.  There was nothing remarkable about her clothing or face.  She was just an average, boring girl who just happened to be dead. 

“Look closer,” the boy whispered from right by her side.

Aless shivered at the touch of his cold hands on her waist.  Yet she leaned forward, her face inches from the deceased her on the table.  At first, there was nothing but then, slowly, Aless started to see that her corpse was indeed breathing, just ever so slightly, barely even a wheeze.  But that didn’t matter to Aless.  She saw that her dream corpse was alive!  Spinning Alessandra begged for someone to see but they were all too deep in mourning to wake from their grieving.

“Shush, my love,” the boy smiled pleasantly when Aless finally sunk to her knees and then onto her butt, her body shaking with desperate tears. “It’s better this way.  Because now you only belong to me.”

“Belong to you, little boy? How can that be?”

“Because we were meant to be, you and me.  We were meant to be since the day we met.  Nothing will keep me from you, not even death. So dry those tears and give me a smile.  You’re so much prettier when you smile.”

The golden-eyed child held her face in his hands and Aless couldn’t speak, let alone smile.  He brought his brow to hers and smiled for her as he laughed in a voice that sounded like a man.

“So stubborn, my love.  So stubborn and bold.  But that’s why I love my Ale more than the world.”

And the boy kissed Aless, just lightly on the lips causing doom to sink into her chest. 

“Wait for me, my Ale.  Wait for me and soon you’ll see that I never say what I don’t mean. And soon enough you’ll beg for me.”

The boy’s eyes flashed in vicious amusement and Aless gasped as she saw what he meant.  The boy was her well-dressed nightmare.  The boy was Dominic Dúcái.