I felt the frost of the window freeze against my cheek. It was cold, but something else was bugging me. It felt like there was a tugging sensation in my gut; something screaming for me to get off of the train. I tried to ignore it, but it was getting harder and harder with every passing block.
The train had started to lurch at odd angles.

None of the other kids noticed. Just me. Terror started to creep up on me when I saw what we were heading towards. We’d all be smashed to bits if the metro wouldn’t stop. There was construction on the rail tracks, and someone had left the tracks undone. As soon as we would hit that spot, the train would go AWOL.

Cassie was still asleep. I wanted to wake her up, and warn her that we needed to get off of the metro, but she seemed so peaceful. Once she woke up she would realize the danger we were in, and the spell would be broken.

My heart beat faster than lightning.

I never got the chance to warn anybody.

I opened my mouth to scream just as our car careened upside down.

The screaming started. Glass bits flew everywhere, and sharp pain spiked up my right side. I was blinded by fire and debris. I heard crying and shouting everywhere. Something was on top of me; we kept spinning and tumbling across the train tracks. I could hardly breathe; blood filled my mouth and choked me. I wanted to stand up, but the metro car kept tumbling over and over again.

My head slammed against a seat, and nausea rolled over me. I couldn’t think at all, but I knew that I needed to get out. I had to get out of there. It was then that I realized I couldn’t move because there were so many people lying on top of me.

Bodies. Not people. They were all dead.

The train stopped spinning. Silence was the only sound.

I wanted to scream, but I didn’t have the energy to. I turned to my side very tenderly, the pain making it excruciatingly hard, to see if Cassie was ok.

I couldn’t see her face. She was covered in glass, and her body was bent at weird angles. I licked my lips and let out a hoarse whisper,

“Cass,” My throat felt like sandpaper, “Cassie, are you ok?” She didn’t answer. I started to panic. Suddenly, a large piece of rubble from the ceiling tore off and dropped on top of Cassie. My eyes bulged. “Cassie.” Exhaustion waved over me. I was blinking in and out consciousness, and I saw red and blue lights blinking as the paramedics rushed to the scene.

Someone was over me.

“You’re going to be alright. We’re just going to knock you out for a little so the pain goes away, ok?” The lady said slowly. I tried to shake my head, no, and ask if Cassie was ok. That was all that I cared about. Was Cassie alright? I was fine. I even tried to say no.

“Cassie…” I started, but the medic shushed me up.

“Someone will help your friend. Your friend will be helped. Shh, it’s ok.” I felt a needle slip into my leg before I could protest, and blackness enveloped me in deep sleep.

While I was asleep I heard voices.

“…needs stitches…”

“…so lucky….”

“…the girl is in the ICU…” Nothing made sense,.

I woke up in a hospital bed. My mom sat next to me, teary-eyed. It took me a minute to remember what had happened on the metro, but once I did, I sat up abruptly, ready to talk.

“You were lucky,” She told me, placing a hand on mine, “Just a few lacerations on your right abdomen. They stitched you up.” I placed my hand on my side, feeling tender bruises and pinched skin. That wasn’t my main priority. I would be fine.

“Where’s Cassie?” I asked, ignoring her statement. Mom dropped her eyes to the floor. “Where is she?” Mom started to cry again. Dread filled my stomach and I felt sick. “Where’s Cassie, mom?” I demanded, growing more panicked. Jumping out of my bed, I ripped out my IV, ignoring the sharp sting.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry, her heart stopped this morning when they tried to resuscitate her.” No. No, no, no, no. Not Cassie. Not my best friend. Not another one gone. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. They were all joking. This was a prank. Cassie was waiting outside the door, laughing, waiting to see my reaction. Or this was a dream. I pinched myself, hard, begging to wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up!

“No, she’s alive-“

“Carter, she’s gone. I’m so sorry.” The words bounced off of my eardrums. It started to settle in. I had killed her, didn’t I? I told her to get on the metro. I let her sleep when I could’ve warned her about the train tracks. If I had woken her up, she would still be alive.

“Damn it!” I screamed, stomping my foot on the ground. My mom stood up and embraced me as I cried into her shoulder. “Damn it, damn it, damn it….” I sobbed. She stroked my hair and held me close.

I just couldn’t accept that she was gone forever.

I refused to go to her funeral. I didn’t want to break down all over again, so that day, I went to Central Park and did some skateboarding. Everyone loved Cassie. People knew how close we were, and all I got at school were pitied stares and comments about how sorry everyone was. I knew they were trying to make me feel better, but each thing they said made me feel like I was tumbling in the metro all over again.


Even Todd left me alone for a while. Almost like he felt too bad to pick on me.

I tried to do a trick on my board, but I ended up falling and skinning my elbow. I cursed, gritting my teeth, when I noticed someone standing in front of me.

“Looks like that hurt.” I hadn’t heard someone talk to me for so long that for a moment, I swore it was Cassie, but then I looked up. The voice came from a girl with long, blond hair and dark brown eyes. She had her arms crossed, and I realized that she was unnaturally thin. “Need a hand?” I grabbed her hand and she pulled me up.

“Who are you?” I asked warily, stepping back slightly.

“I’m Anna. I was on my way to gymnastics, but I got pretty bored.” She smirked, picking up my board and examining it. It made me nervous how she had just appeared out of nowhere.

“Got a last name?”

“What, so you can stalk me?” Anna laughed bitterly. Where had she come from? One minute I was skateboarding in an empty park, the next thing, this girl just appeared out of nowhere, and started talking to me. I rolled my eyes. The exact reason I’d come to Central Park was to get some space; I didn’t want to talk at all. I wasn’t up to socializing with anyone at all.

I started to walk away and head home, but Anna grabbed my wrist and stopped me.

“Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” She cried desperately, “My last name is Pearson.” I was alarmed by the sudden neediness in her voice, and I stopped walking. Anna dropped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just wanted a friend, that’s all.” I felt bad for her. It was kind of strange, though, how needy she sounded. Almost like a little kid, though, she couldn’t have been older than thirteen or fourteen. My age.

“Don’t you have friends? You know, being a gymnast and all, don’t you hang out with your teammates?” I asked. Anna dug her nails into her palm, obviously not wanting to talk about it.

“No,” She muttered, “Nobody’s my friend. That’s why I hang around here sometimes, looking for one.” I nodded, but all I could think of was how odd she was. Maybe she had some sort of mental disorder, like autism or something. I don’t know. After hanging around Cassie, I knew odd when I saw it. Cassie. I quickly pushed her out of my head, so I wouldn’t start crying.

I decided that Anna didn’t have a mental issue, just that she was a little strange.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have friends, either. I had one, but she’s gone.” I didn’t know why I was telling her any of this. All I knew was her name and that she was mad.

Anna smiled sympathetically and touched my hand.

“I know.” Then she turned on her heel and walked away.

“Wake up.” My mom’s voice drifted above me. “Come on, wake up, Car-car.” I dug myself deeper into the sheets, hoping she wouldn’t see that I had been awake for more than an hour. There was no way I wanted to go to school. I felt like someone had stuck me in a freezer and sucked all of my innards through a vacuum. Besides, I still wasn’t over Cassie. I didn’t think I’d ever be.

I pulled the blanket over me and willed my mom to go away. She didn’t.

“Carter, you really have to go to school. I know you’re sad, honey, but you don’t want to get extra homework, do you?” She rubbed my shoulder.

“I’m sick,” I groaned, “Can I stay home?” Mom leaned down and felt my forehead. Suddenly, she pulled her hand back as if she’d touched a stove.

“Oh, gracious, you’re burning up. No way are you going to school, buddy.” I was glad to hear that I’d be getting some alone time, but at the same time, it confirmed my fear: I was getting “depression-influenced fever illness”, or as Cassie would say, “barfing because you’re pissed”. Mom left my room and came back with a cup of tea and a thermometer. Without asking, she stuck it under my tongue.

“I clan’t bleethe when you shtlick dat unduh mah tongue!” I complained, but mom ignored me. She pulled it out.

“Yep, one hundred and one point five. I’m going to work. You better stay in bed, Carter, alright?” I nodded, and once she left, I got out of bed and gingerly made my way to the kitchen. I felt like crap, but I had to get some food in me.

There was some week-old chicken broth, but it would have to do. I didn’t want to eat anything that could make me vomit or feel worse.

The doorbell rang. I went to answer it, but really, who would be coming to visit at this time of the day? Everyone was either in school or at work.

When I opened it, I nearly dropped my soup.

“How’d you find out where I live?” I demanded, glaring at Anna. She was looking especially strange. She wore a dress that came to her knees with a pair of rubber galoshes, and a top hat. I also was puzzled by the strange assortment of jewelry she’d chosen; plenty of beaded necklaces and bracelets made from newspaper.

“I live here, too. Room 109.” She said, like it was obvious. I sighed.

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” Anna toyed with a bracelet and grinned. I calmed down a bit. Normally, I’d get really creeped out by someone just showing up at my door, but I’d grown a soft spot for Anna.

“I don’t go to school.”

“Wanna come in?” I opened the door wider. She tilted her head, as if to say, me? You want me to come in? It made me wonder if anybody had ever really invited her to hang out. I mean, she was a bit strange, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a person with feelings.

Besides, maybe hanging out with someone might help me forget about Cassie.

I led her to the kitchen and pulled out a bag of chips from the pantry. Alright, I’ll admit it, it probably wasn’t the best choice for someone with a fever, but who would ever know? Mom was still at work.

“Want something to eat?” I asked Anna, pulling out a couple of chairs. She stepped back slightly and stared bleakly at the chips.

“No, I’m alright.” She was so skinny and frail, that a few chips wouldn’t hurt her. But she seemed so alarmed by the food that it was like she was almost afraid of it. But I knew girls like that; totally obsessed with their weight, practically starving themselves. Eating disorders and stuff. Cassie was never like that; if she saw food, she’d stuff her face.

I felt kind of awkward eating a sandwich right in front of her, so I put it away and brought out a deck of cards.

“Let’s play BS.” Anna suggested, as we sat cross-legged on the carpet. I dealt the cards and we played. She was quick, just like lightning. Every time I’d call a card, she seemed to know that I was lying. Every single time she would call a “BS” on me.

I ended up losing. It perplexed me how she seemed to know almost everything, and I was starting to enjoy having her around.

We were having so much fun that I hadn’t noticed the time.

“Crap,” I said aloud, “It’s already four. My mom’s going to be home soon.” Anna stood up, dusting her dress off. For the first time, I noticed that it was bright blue, the same color as Cassie’s eyes. Honeyberry Hula.

“I’d better get going.” She pulled me into a hug. I was momentarily alarmed by how cold she was. Her skin felt like snow. As Anna turned to walk out the door, she glanced back at me one more time. “Oh, and Carter?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell anyone that we’re friends.”


I had hopped back under the sheets, literally thirty seconds before my mom came back home.

“Carter, are you feeling any better?” She placed a hand on my forehead and pulled it away. “Cooler already. I hope you’re well rested, because you’re going to school tomorrow.” I stayed silent when my mom left the room.

I fell asleep.

My head spun as I stared around in my dream. Cassie sat in front of me. I couldn’t move at all, almost like I was paralyzed. I wanted to reach out and touch her, tell her that I was sorry, but then something horrible happened. In a grisly account of the metro accident, she peeled off the skin on her thighs. Then she twisted her right arm to a pain-staking angle. I watched in horror as her face started to smolder with black smoke. This was all that had happened on the train. It was replaying itself, and I couldn’t close my eyes. A distant noise, like the sound of a train, came whistling behind her. I opened my mouth to scream just as the Metro burst through my bedroom wall and smashed into us.

I woke up screaming. Someone clapped their hand over my mouth, and I bit down by accident.

“Ow, Jesus!” Anna cried. She yanked her hand back, and tenderly massaged it. My heart nearly stopped. How the heck did she get in my room?

“What-“

“The window landing was open.” She explained in a hushed whisper. I craned my neck to see that my bedroom window was open. I inhaled deeply to calm down.

“How long was I asleep?” I demanded, pulling up the blanket to cover my bare chest. Anna circled her fingers around her wrist and smirked.

“About ten hours. You’re supposed to be at school.” Ten hours?! Had I really been asleep for that long? I was probably already late for school. Principal Hudson would be pissed. I’d missed enough school, anyhow.

I flung myself out of bed, ignoring the fact that I was stark naked, and dashed into my closet. I pulled out the only thing I could find in time and threw it on.

“Why couldn’t you wake me up earlier?” I complained. Anna crossed her arms.

“Don’t blame me. I’m not your freaking alarm clock, alright?” I flushed. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so rude to her. I noticed that she was getting thinner and thinner, paler and paler. She had dark, purple rings under her eyes.

“What’s been going on with you?” I was genuinely concerned. I knew that Anna was odd, and this made it a hundred times harder to figure her out.

She pulled up a chair and settled into it. I watched as her nails dug into her wrist as she tried to think. Anna’s eyes drifted out towards the window, and she sighed, loudly.

“Everything’s just lovely. Lovely, lovely.” She paused and squeezed her eyes shut. “You know, things have been dark all over, but I’ve been ignoring it.” Red lights were blinking, saying, Hello, Carter! Obviously things aren’t ‘lovely’ for her. I didn’t know what to say. What was I supposed to do, say that everything would turn out alright? What if it didn’t? I hated when people would throw me empty promises, so why would I do that to her?

“You have to start by being honest.” I said. Anna opened her eyes and looked at me.

“What?”

“I mean, if you ever want to feel good, then you gotta be honest. You can’t just pretend that everything’s fine.” I meant it when I said it. It was probably the first meaningful thing I’d ever told her, but I knew it was true. I could see it. Anyone could, probably, the way Anna struggled to hold everything in. I could see it on her face.

She paled and dug her nails even further.

“I’m not pretending.” Even her voice wavered, like she was trying to convince herself. I sat back down on my bed, deciding that I didn’t need to go to school as much as I needed to talk with Anna.

It felt strange to talk to someone like this.

“Just stop lying.” And with a deep breath, Anna began to tell me her story.

She lived with her older brother, Mike. Anna still wouldn’t tell me her last name, though. I’d never met Mike before, even if they lived just a floor below me.

Both of her parents died in a wildfire by Niagra Falls. Anna’s thirteen, and Mike’s seventeen. She’d never attended a day of school in her life.

“Mike teaches me stuff. It’s a lot better than going to real school, anyways. He takes me to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and we take notes.” She explained. My eyes dropped to her wrists when I saw scratches, burns, cuts, and scrapes covering her forearms. I swallowed all of the judgments that wanted to pop out of me.

“Where did you get all of those?” I asked her, fearing that her answer would be something that I wouldn’t want to hear. Anna’s jaw tightened and she squeezed her wrist even harder. She refused to meet my eyes.

“I’ve had a tougher time than it looks.” Anna said curtly, “When you don’t have friends, it starts to get to you, can you understand?” I nodded grimly. It was all I had to hear; I’d seen people with the same scars and the same excuses before at school. I never talked to them, but the pain in their faces was all I needed to know that their lives were far from okay. But for some reason, it stung worse to hear it from Anna. It hurt more to see someone you care about in pain. And yes, I cared about Anna. Not in the same way I cared about Cassie.

I didn’t have a crush on Anna. It was deeper. This felt real, like if she let go then we’d both sink to the bottom of the Hudson.


“What about your eating disorder?” I blurted it out before I could stop myself. Her eyes sharpened, and this time, she stared straight at me. I felt like her black eyes were digging into me. Almost immediately, I wished that I could take back what I said.

“I don’t have one.” She spat, and then paused. Her eyes glazed over again and she traveled off into her own little world. “I’m sick, that’s all.

“So you’re not anorexic.” I repeated. Anna kept zoning out into her daydream.

“I’m not,” She sighed, “That’s a name for a disorder with a purpose. I have no purpose. Eating isn’t real for me. Not like it is for you. I’m sick, and I don’t feel like eating because I just throw everything back up.” I felt like someone had grabbed my heart with a cold fist.

Anna needed help. And this was help that I wasn’t equipped to give.
“I can only be there,” I told her, feeling like I could cry from the stress and exertion her predicament was putting me in, “I can be your friend. I don’t know what to do, Anna, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me, because I don’t need help.” She was smiling now. It wasn’t even fake. A few weeks ago I would’ve run away from someone who was making this kind of conversation, but now, I saw what it was like on the inside.

Anna wasn’t crazy. She had seen too much in the world and become too smart for her own good. I believed her when she said she wasn’t anorexic, but I knew there was something much worse hidden in her habits.

I sat in fourth period English, about ready to bang my brains out on my desk. This was at least the tenth time in my life that I’d been assigned to read To Kill a Mockingbird, and I was absolutely done.

“Calm down, kids,” Mr. Flynn instructed our groaning class, “Harper Lee is a talented author with a style of writing that we really need to study, class! This is going to help you with the semester exam.” As if anyone cared about the semester exam. It didn’t even count for our grade; it only affected our yearly IQ scores. And nobody at Chantilly gave a crap about their scores.

Things had gone back to their old, boring normal. The sympathy phase was over; Todd was back to giving me noogies and shoving me around. People forgot that Cassie was my best friend. In fact, it was almost as if Cassie had never existed.

I nearly fell asleep during class. It wouldn’t really matter, though, because I’d heard who Scout was already and who the lawyer was protecting, and I wasn’t interested at all in re-reading the book. The fact that Mr. Flynn was making us read To Kill a Mockingbird when everyone in the class had read it in seventh and eighth grade was utterly ridiculous. It goes to show that high school English teachers never really talk to the middle school teachers. It’s probably a good thing, though, considering my less-than-lovable eighth grade English term reports. If Mr. Flynn had found out how badly I sucked back in the day, he’d probably place me in Green Group. Green Group is the “assisted” English class for kids my age who can’t do ANYTHING.

I envied Anna, who was probably off watching a show in Broadway with her brother for “theater arts”. If only school was like Anna and Mike’s version, we’d all be scoring straight As.

Todd decided to introduce his fist to my face during P.E. Of course, Ms. Beauregard decided that Todd and I would be great partners for our boxing unit. And just my luck that he’d be my partner for the ENTIRE unit.

“Hey, Farter,” He snickered, cracking his meaty knuckles, “Excited to have a little one-on-one quality time?” Normally, I would’ve come up with some witty comeback to throw at Todd, but today, I just wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t really want to pick a fight that I knew I couldn’t win. Besides, deep down, I knew Cassie wouldn’t be proud of me getting in a hustle with Todd Whitman.

“Let’s just get this over with. You and I both know that we don’t want to do this. Alright?” I sighed, assuming a ready stance. Todd smirked, and before I was ready to fight, he slammed his knuckles into my jaw.

I stumbled back and rubbed my cheek tenderly, staring at him in shock. He grinned wickedly. I prepared my fists, and tried to strike back, but suddenly I was surrounded by Todd, Danny, Andrew, and Robbie. I stole a glance at our teacher, but she was too absorbed in her telephone to notice.

“We’ll do this like UFC,” Todd declared, “Four against one.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure that they don’t-“ I never got to finish my sentence. In an instant, all four of them were on top of me, pounding their feet and hands into me.

I’m so scrawny that I couldn’t fight back. My skull screamed and every nerve in my body was on fire. I tried to push them off of me, but there was no use. I started to panic.
“Stop it!” I cried, “Cut it out!” I saw black spots dance before my eyes. Everything went dark.

Suddenly, it didn’t hurt anymore. I was in a nightmare. Cassie was hanging upside down from the Metro pole, blinking at me.

“Carter,” She said, “Carter, something bad is about to happen.” I knew what was about to take place. I knew I couldn’t save Cassie. “Something is going to change,” She whispered, “Someone is about to die.”

“Cassie, you have to get off of the Metro!” I tried to shout, but as soon as I did, the window glass exploded everywhere.

My eyes sprang open. I was lying on the gym floor, two people I couldn’t recognize standing above me. Robbie, Todd, Andrew, and Danny were all standing in the corner of the gym, trembling, and looking utterly terrified.

I was shaking, too. My breath came in short, forced gasps. Ms. Beauregard sat next to me, tears in her eyes.

“What hap-“

“Don’t try to talk, you’re ok, don’t worry.” It was another paramedic. She had grey eyes and a friendly face. The medic looked back to my teacher. “You say he was screaming and seizing?” Ms. Beauregard’s face turned pale.

“That’s not all. He kept saying, ‘Anna, save me, help me, help her’ over and over again. You can bet those four boys are getting detention, but when Carter started to stand up and hit them, they backed off.” I was confused. Hit them? I was unconscious the whole time. I’d never attacked them. How could I? I wanted answers, but nobody was giving any.

“Let’s take him to the hospital and keep him for the night. If you can notify his legal guardian, then they can come sign his papers.” And despite my outraged protesting, the medics loaded me on a stretcher and carried me to the ambulance.

The stench of antiseptics and liquid nutrition curdled my nose as I slowly came awake. I had a lot of trouble remembering where I was, and why I was lying strapped down in the hospital bed. Nobody would tell me anything, and I was getting even more agitated with every passing second.

I closed my eyes. When I opened them, Anna was standing by the window, staring out.

It took her a while to see me.

“You’re awake,” She grinned. Today, she had wristbands and candy bracelets covering her arms all the way to her elbows, and she wore a hospital gown like mine. She ran her fingers through her hair, and a large tangle of blond fell to the ground. Her hair was falling out. I shook the fright out of my head.

“What’s with the getup?” I asked her, realizing how dry my throat was. Anna looked down, as if realizing for the first time what she was wearing.

“Oh,” She chuckled lightly, “I wanted to be twins with you.” I stifled a laugh, and for a moment, I forgot my little predicament. Not until I started to see how thin her ankles were getting. My smile faded, and cold dread swept over me. A grisly thought of Anna, lying on the floor dying, flashed through me. I had to squeeze my restraints hard to focus.

“Did you eat this morning?” I managed, my breaths catching on every word. Anna blinked back at me, her eyes full of glassiness.

“Yes.”

“Then why are your legs so thin?”

“I think I’m dying, Carter.” Her voice was barely audible. I swallowed the egg-sized lump sitting in my throat. She thinks she’s dying. She thinks she’s dying. She thinks she’s dying. She was getting thinner and thinner; her hair kept falling out. The purple circles around her eyes grew bigger and darker every day.

“No, you’re not.” I stammered, feeling like I was going to throw up. My vision went blurry. Anna couldn’t leave. She couldn’t just leave me, not after I’d lost Cassie, it just wasn’t fair.

“I’ve got ischemic heart disease,” She trembled furiously, “My organs forgot about my heart and now it isn’t getting enough blood.” I couldn’t breathe. My stomach fought against my throat. Not again, I begged, Please, please, God, not another one lost. I wanted her to stop. No, she wasn’t dying. She had a cold, that’s why she was losing weight and shedding her hair. Anna didn’t have a heart disease. She didn’t. I wouldn’t let her.

“You’re not dying,” I choked out, “You’re fine. You’re not sick, Anna, you’re not.” Tears welled up in her eyes. She reached out to touch me, but her hand was shaking so bad that she could barely reach me.

“Carter, I’ve only got a month-“ I ripped the IV out of my wrist angrily. Anna backed away, probably frightened by my sudden meltdown.

“You’re breathing! You’re walking around and doing things, you’re not going to die, Anna! Stop saying that!” I shouted. I wanted to break down and cry so badly, but I was filled with so much hurt that I couldn’t see straight. Fighting hard against my restraints, I kicked and cried until the buckles came off. Anna looked on with horror.


“Please, Carter, please calm down, you’re my only friend, stop it, don’t be mad!” She sobbed. Seeing Anna cry made me feel even worse. She latched onto my wrist, shrieking and crying. By now I was surprised that the doctors hadn’t come to settle things down.

I finally broke down. I grabbed Anna and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t leave...” She cried into my shoulder. Her salty tears leached into the cut from the IV in my arm and stung, but I ignored it.

I only had a month to say goodbye to my only friend.

Deer Carrtir,


Im sorry if I sciared the living crap out of you. I didnt mean to make you have a seeizure in jim and I didn’t mean for you to start screeming like a barn owl. Sorry for punching you and beeting you up. It musd haf really hurt. Next time that I punch you I’ll stop if you start screming and also yeah. So sorry about everything.




Cincerealy,





Todd Whitman


I crumpled up the note. Obviously, Todd wasn’t doing too hot in English. He was all talk but no do. And of course, Ms. Beauregard had forced Todd to write the note to me, but it still didn’t make me feel any better.

I was at home now. Not saying that being at home made me happy, but I was glad to be out of that stinky hospital.

Anna hadn’t visited me in a couple of days. I was fine with that; if she came over I would probably start crying all over again. And after everything I’d been through, crying was not something I needed.

My mom took me to the wax museum so we could get some time off from school. She knew I was stressed out.

“I know you’re still upset about Cassie,” She sympathized, “But I’m sure she’s in a better place.” I was upset about Cassie, but it wasn’t the main reason for my stress.

“Yeah,” I lied, “I’m sure she is.”

We only hung around for a little while, because she had to get back to work, and she knew I wanted to go back home.

My mom handed me the keys to our apartment.

“I’ll be home by six.” She pecked me on the cheek and left the museum.

Once I was home, I turned off all of the lights in the apartment, nestled myself in the corner of my bedroom, and shut my eyes.

The darkness felt cold and beautiful at the same time. It was a weird thing to do in the middle of the day, but I needed to get away from light. It burned too bright.

People didn’t deserve to be happy, not when people like Anna were dying, not when people like Cassie had their lives stolen from them.

“I hope you’re not still mad at me.” The whisper came from my right. I screamed and compulsively smacked whatever was next to me. Cold fingers slipped around my wrist. The icy chill made me shiver. “Relax, it’s just me. Anna.”

I exhaled a sigh in relief.

“You scared the crap out of me.” I snapped.

“I’m sorry.” She sounded genuinely hurt. Although I couldn’t see her, I could hear the regret in her voice. Once again, I wished I could take back my harsh tone of voice. We sat in the quiet pitch, black of the room and snuggled up against each other. I bet she was taking the warmth from me, but I got nothing from her. Anna was colder than ice.

“Why are you so cold?” I whispered, rubbing my hands together to create friction, and hopefully warm me up. I felt her tiny arms tense beside me.

“I fell,” She shivered. I reached out and touched her hair; it was covered in frost, and I could feel chunks of ice tangled in her locks.

“Where the hell did you fall?”

“He-he pushed me. The water was so cold, Carter. And I can’t swim. It was so scary.” She started to shake again, and I pulled her in closer so she would hopefully warm up. Someone had pushed her into the Hudson Bay. I could tell it was the Hudson; no other body of water was as freezing cold.

Suddenly, I felt just as chilly as Anna was.

“Who pushed you, Anna?” I demanded. I couldn’t see her expression, but I knew that she wouldn’t want to tell me. “Who messed around with you?”

“I can’t say,” She squeaked, “Not yet.” I blinked again. I was getting really fed up with how stubborn she was getting. I tried to help her, I actually gave a crap about her, and now she refused to tell me who pushed her into the freaking Hudson Bay.

“What do you mean, you can’t say yet? When will you ever say it?” Without waiting for an answer, I stood up and flicked on the light of my bedroom.

I expected to see Anna, shivering against the wall.

Anna was stark naked. I screamed out of alarm, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t naked in that sort of “hubba-hubba” way. She was coated in frost and chunks of broken snow. Blood poured down her mouth. Her lips were stained red, but the rest of her skin was tinged blue. It was disgusting. Blood everywhere. Cuts and bruises I couldn’t explain. It reminded me all too much of Cassie.

“Oh, my God,” I exclaimed, “You’re heart disease- now you’ve got hypothermia, and, oh God, Holy sh-“

“Carter?” I stopped my sentence when I heard my mom’s voice coming from the living room. “Carter, can you help me with the groceries?” I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. What would I do? Where would I hide Anna? I would have to deal with the initial shock of her appearance once I helped me mom.

I turned to Anna, who seemed to be going into shock. I had to get her help. There were two choices: I could save my own butt and hide Anna, and risk her death, or be a man and take her to the hospital, even if it meant getting in trouble with my mom.

I threw a towel at her and helped wrapped it around her body.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” I choked on every word, “You’re going to the emergency room. You’ll be alright, ok?” Tears welled up in her bloodshot eyes. I grabbed her by her lanky wrist and started to lead her out of my room, ignoring the carnage. She stood her ground.

“I can’t go, I’m sorry, but you can’t take me.” Anna said, so quietly that you could hear a pin drop. I tugged again, ignoring her.

“Come on, do you want to die of hypothermia? You already have a heart problem. If we don’t get you help then you’ll die a month before you’re supposed to.” I tried to tug again, but she wouldn’t move. Finally I let go. “If you won’t move, then wait here. I’m going to get my mom.” I blocked out her protesting cries and ran through the door of my room.

My mom was setting bags on the counter.

“Hey, how was-“

“Mom,” I said, setting my hand on hers, “I need your help. Now.” A startled look crossed her face. I grimaced, bracing myself. “A friend of mine came to visit me. She’s really sick. We need to get her to Mercy General before she goes into shock.” I expected her to yell at me or something, but instead, she crossed past me and headed straight to my room. I followed her.

“I don’t see anyone, Carter.” What? Had Anna hidden in my closet or something? Maybe she ran away….no, the windows were locked.

“I swear, she was just in here.” I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. My mom pursed her lips skeptically, and backed away from my door.

“Are you still sick?” She asked me. A hint in her voice clued me in that she probably thought I was going nuts again. I swallowed every objection I wanted to scream and said,

“Yeah. I’m sorry; I probably fell asleep and had a nightmare or something.” It was a good lie. I didn’t feel good duping my mom, but I really wasn’t in the mood to spend another night in the loony bin. She kissed me on the cheek, gave me a reassuring squeeze, and then turned on her heel towards her office.

I stared blankly at the corner of the wall where Anna had sat. There was no blood smeared on the wall, no gore-covered towel, no sign that she had ever been there. Was I imagining things? No, she was there.

I plunked down on top of my bed and tried to push out all of the feelings that threatened to break me down. I couldn’t be going crazy.

As I turned to rest my head on the pillow, something caught my eye.

I started to cry as I turned the candy bracelet over in my hands.

I hate the library, but this time, I had a legit reason to go. One reason I don’t like the Manhattan Public Library is because of the librarian, Harold Peterson.

Harold’s a creep. He stalks people behind the bookshelves and yells at them,

“Bah, don’t you fold the pages!” or, “That’s a Jane Austen classic, don’t even think about touching that one!” Usually people just left without checking out anything because he freaked everyone out too much.

I was going to check out a book for Anna. I didn’t know when I’d see her again, but I knew that she would like something to read. If she was ok.

I heard she liked To Kill A Mockingbird. Someone who’d read it a hundred times knew where to find the copy.

Harold was leaning over Wuthering Heights when I came to the checkout desk. When he saw me, he gave me an acknowledging grunt.

“What are you doing with a Harper Lee?” He growled. I stared stone cold at him.


“It’s for my friend, Anna.” Harold scowled and slammed his book shut.

“You stupid teenagers,” He muttered, “Too lazy to get your asses up and get your own books.” When he said that, rage heated my face and I punched my fist on the desk. How dare he say something like that!

“Anna’s got hypothermia and ischemic heart disease, her brother, Mike doesn’t give a crap about her sickness, and I don’t even know where the hell she is, so freaking pardon me if she can’t walk ten blocks to get a stupid book!” I shouted. I had no idea where that came from. Harold paled and gripped the edge of his chair.

“Anna who?” He sounded genuinely nervous. Why would it matter who Anna was?

“Anna Pearson.” I said, “Why the blast do you care?” Harold looked like he was about to faint. He started to mutter things under his breath.

“She disappeared,” Harold mumbled, “Nobody found her.” I grabbed the book from his hands and leaned over, glaring deep into his beady little rat eyes.

I must’ve been mildly intimidating, because the story tumbled out of his mouth like ice cubes in a metal dish.

Anna Pearson was thirteen years old when she disappeared from her apartment in the Green Tree Apartments (coincidentally, the name of the building I live in). She was on her way back from gymnastics practice, and after that, nobody knew what happened to her. Her brother, Michael Pearson, was in hysterics when the police showed up. He was crazy worried about Anna.

They finally convicted Olaf Slutskaya, a street gambler who had been obsessed with Anna, for assault and murder. They pulled him away to jail, as he screamed, “I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it!” The NYPD recovered her body in the Hudson Bay a week later, badly beaten and bruised. It was confirmed that the cause of death was from a mixture of hypothermia and complications from a previous heart disease.
And the only artifact they could recover from Anna’s body was a soggy, half-chewed candy bracelet.


The cold whisper floated above me like an icy wind.


“It was him…it was him…” everywhere, it seemed like she was trying to talk to me. I knew who it was now; I knew that Anna was dead. She was a ghost. So what was she trying to tell me? It wasn’t making sense. I felt like I was going crazy. “You have to tell the truth, Carter, it was him…”

“…repeated my past…trying to get you to help me, this is what really happened…”

I was knocked out cold as the words stung me like a thousand knives.

Anna’s hand brushed over my forehead. She was here; really here. I opened my eyes slowly. Her hair was frozen over, and she looked worse than the last time.

“You have to see Olaf,” She whispered, “You need to talk to him. Manhattan Detention Center.”

“What? I’m not talking to the sicko who killed you.” The thought of Olaf beating Anna made bile rise in my throat. And seeing him face to face would tear me apart. Anna shook her head furiously.

“Not him, Carter,” Her words were blunt and cut off, “They got it wrong. It wasn’t him.” What did she mean, it wasn’t him? “You have to talk to him, he’ll tell you the truth, Carter.”

I reached out to touch her face, but then she disappeared.

“And who are you visiting again?” The guard asked me, as I tried not to crinkle my face in disgust from the stench of urine in the visitation room.

“Olaf Slutskaya,” I managed, feeling like I was going to barf, “He’s my second-cousin.” The thought of even lying that the freak was related to me made me sick. I kept reminding myself to keep it together.

“This way, please.” He opened doors that had too many locks to count. I kept my eyes in a straight stare, refusing to look at the passing cells.

He led me into a room, with a glass wall in between.

Before me was the most disgusting man I’d ever seen. He had plenty of bald patches, beady black eyes, and a nose that dripped with mucous. When he looked up, a snarl crossed his face. I squeezed my fist to refrain from punching the glass.

“You have twenty minutes.” The guard went to the corner.

For a moment, Olaf and I just stared at each other. After a while, I spoke.

“You’re so twisted,” I spat, “I hope you rot.” Olaf gave me an amused grin. Nausea rolled over me. I hopes this man would never get out of prison. Ever.

“Ah,” A thick, Russian accent, “A friend of Anna Pearson’s, yah?” I didn’t budge. “That girl was surely a piece of something. And everybody still thinks I was the one…” he laughed. Of course he was the one who killed her.

“You killed her. You beat her up and threw her in the bay.”

“No, you fool, have you looked to the people who stand so close to her?” He grumbled. “Yes, I do not deny that I never stalked her, but-“ he let out a belch, “Do you see my hands? These are the hands of a lazy man. I’ve never step foot out of my block other than to retrieve groceries.” I still didn’t believe him. Olaf leaned forward, serious. “Look at her brother. Do you ever see him? Nyet. He’s too busy hiding. He knows what he did. Michael Pearson was too scared of his sister. He’s a schizo, yah?” Dread poured over me.

I’d never seen Mike before.

“What-“

“Ah, you see, Michael hears voices,” Olaf tapped his head, “The voices turn him bitter. Where was Michael when Anna vanished?” I couldn’t answer this, and he gave me a satisfied smirk. “He was out, down by the Bay. Where was Michael when Anna went to gymnastics? In the car, on the way to pick her up. And why did the police say he wouldn’t stop shaking when they questioned us?” I was frozen with shock. I wanted to scream, to tell this man he was wrong, but everything was stopping me. Somewhere, somehow, I knew he was right.
“Why?” I croaked, already knowing the answer. Olaf grinned with satisfaction.
“Because Michael Pearson murdered his sister.”

I ran out of that room faster than I could breathe.

I ran out of that room faster than I could breathe.

I threw To Kill a Mockingbird on the doormat of Apartment 109. Hopefully Mike would know I meant business. I rang the doorbell, prepared to start chewing this guy out.
A young man, no older than twenty, answered. He had pale skin and fair, blond hair. It stung me; the resemblance he had to Anna. He had an odd expression on his face; one of confusion, pain, and sadness. In his hand he held a bottle. His hands trembled furiously.

Was this the man who murdered Anna? Her own brother?

“Are you Mike Pearson?” I asked him. Slowly, the man nodded, cautiously.

“What do you want? Did you come to hurt me?” His voice sounded strangled and pained. Pity washed over me; it was clear that Mike had a very, very severe mental disorder. Why would they leave him alone to take care of himself? This was the first warning sign; Mike wasn’t fit to be on his own.

“N-no, I-“

“Please, I didn’t steal the house, please don’t hurt me. I’m weak, I don’t touch the monster.” He started to panic, smacking the bottle against his other palm.

I thought I would be upset, furious, and disgusted by him. But instead, I felt something else. I loved Anna. But I pity her brother. Murder, in my book, is the most unforgivable thing someone can do. But the way that he saw things, and how incredibly disabled he was, he couldn’t have intentionally killed Anna. The voices in his head must have been too loud.

“No, its okay, Mike. I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to talk. Can I come in?” He reluctantly nodded, struggling to focus his vision. He set the bottle on the floor, upside down.

The apartment was arranged in an odd manner. Things were stacked upon each other; coffee tables lay upside down, and all of the pictures and their frames were placed face-down so the photos weren’t visible.

“Do you want some hot ice cream?” Mike asked me. Well, I wasn’t quite sure how that worked, so I declined politely. We sat on two chairs made of wicker. I shut my eyes for a second, and then opened them, ready to ask questions.

“Do you remember your little sister, Anna?” He paused, his eyes focusing over and over again. Mike clenched his armrest. I was starting to think that this was a bad idea, when he spoke.

“Anna Banana,” Sadness filled his voice, “She got attacked by Dragon and then she fell off of the bridge.” He started to cry. I sighed; this poor guy wouldn’t hurt anyone. His disorder mangled his view on things; that’s why he killed Anna. He was too sick to realize what he was doing. “I hurt her by accident. The voices; all too loud. I’m sorry, so sorry. Her body was cold. In the water; she could never swim. Then the street hobo got in trouble, and it was my fault.” He moaned pitifully in his hands, sobbing with despair. It was kind of uncomfortable, and suddenly, I felt really guilty. I had come here ready to yell my brains out at this guy, and instead, I ended up sympathizing with him.

I had a feeling that Anna wouldn’t want me to chew her brother out.

“It’s ok, Mike. She forgives you.”

In the coming months, Olaf was freed from prison. Michael Pearson was sent to a residential treatment center for schizophrenic adults to receive proper help. When I returned to school, Todd stopped picking on me. I couldn’t tell if he was scared of me from my little outburst in gym, or if he’d moved on to bigger and better things.

Still, nobody remembered Cassie Thomas. I did. I always will. I tried to move on, and sometimes it worked, but other times it didn’t.

Anna stopped visiting me. She was probably in a better place. The last time I saw her was at the museum.

I was staring at a classic Van Gogh painting, wondering why he cut his ear off.

“Beautiful flowers,” Anna grinned. Her skin was bright, tan. I felt warmth flow through me when I realized I couldn’t see her ribs through her green dress.

“Yeah, they are.” I added. She turned to me, her smile fading.

“I saw you visit Mike. He told you the truth?” I nodded. Anna smiled again, and kissed me on the cheek. She was warm; like a real human being. “That’s good; you were able to forgive. That’s good, it really is, Carter.”

I turned to talk to her, but she was gone.

Just like that; Anna Pearson was sent to rest in peace.