Ostwall Cemetery, Amissah, 10416 P.C.

To Todd, it felt like an eternity before he heard approaching footsteps crunching the gravelled parking lot. He braced himself as Cathy opened the door to the truck, climbing into the passenger side and closing the door hard before twisting in her seat to look at him. "Hey."

Todd turned his head so he could see her. His sister was good-looking, possessing the long blonde hair of their mother and the deep brown eyes of their father. Every time she smiled — which was becoming rarer with each passing day, he had noticed — he saw their mother, and his heart ached. At times, he wondered if he had possessed their father's smile, but he never saw it in the mirror. In fact, the only thing he had inherited from his father was his height — he was gracing six feet at just seventeen — and his hair, which was a much darker blond from Cathy's sun-bleached locks. But even that was stretching it, as Cooper Vinson had been more of a brunet.

When he didn't respond, she sighed and ducked her head. Then there came that small, timid smile, just like their mother's. "Long day, huh?"

Todd closed his eyes. He didn't want another reminder of someone he had loved and lost. "I guess." All he wanted to do was go home and crawl into his bed and hide from the world. Maybe he'd wake up to find that the last year and a half had been one big bad dream. The chances of that were getting smaller with each passing day.

The smile was gone from Cathy's voice as she said, "I know how close you and Michael were. It's... it's just not fair that he had to be taken so soon."

"Life isn't fair." The bitter words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"No. It isn't."

Todd was glad that she stopped talking after that. He turned his face away from her, keeping his eyes closed as he listened to the sounds of voices outside, people heading for their cars. A flame of hatred welled up inside of him, resentment toward these people who would just go home and continue on with life, forgetting about Michael in the same way they had forgotten about his parents. In a year and a half, would anyone remember the amazing young man Michael had been, so full of life and kindness, always giving everything he had? Probably not.

The flame of hatred grew into a roaring fire as soon as the driver's side door opened and Henry clambered into the vehicle, bringing in a gust of cold air and shouting something Todd didn't care to decipher. He sounded jovial, like a good man, fooling everyone but Todd, it seemed. As soon as the door slammed shut and they were gone from the parking lot, Todd knew the nice guy facade would drop. It always did when there was no one around to see it.

"Where's Todd?" Henry demanded of Cathy before glancing in the back. "Oh, there you are. Sit up and put on your seat belt, we're leaving."

Todd obeyed without a word, refusing to make any sort of eye contact with his brother-in-law for fear that Henry would see the hatred in his eyes. Henry would probably punch it right out of him when they got home, and Todd didn't want to make this day any worse than it had to be. Staring out the window, he caught sight of a couple waving to Henry. Todd had to wonder if the couple knew Henry was an abusive, drug-addicted monster.

"Well, that was a nice service, wasn't it?" Henry asked as he turned on the truck. It sputtered a protest against the cold but soon roared to life.

"Yes," Cathy said quietly, sniffling a bit. "It was."

They were out of the parking lot and on the gravelled road that led back into town before Henry looked in the rearview mirror at Todd. "What did you think of it, Todd?"

Todd didn't reply, biting down on his tongue to keep from lashing out at Henry. He knew it'd only get him in trouble, but oh, did he ever hate the fake, 'good guy' side of Henry Farthing. It made him sick.

"Todd, I'm talking to you." He could hear the annoyance in Henry's voice already. Shaking his head, Todd refused to speak as he stared out the window at the snow-covered fields flying past. If he opened his mouth, he knew Henry wouldn't like what came out.

"Todd!"

"Henry, please," Cathy said softly. "Leave him be."

"But he's just sitting there, ignoring me! Seriously!" Henry turned in his seat to face Todd, nearly driving them right off the road. Cathy shrieked as she grabbed the wheel from her distracted husband's hand. Henry didn't even seem to notice. "Hello, are you still with us, or did you go to be with your friend?"

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"Stop the car," Todd demanded, unbuckling his seat belt.

"What are you—?"

"I said stop the car!"

Henry slammed on the brakes, causing Cathy to scream again as the truck skidded to a jolting, gravel-spitting halt. "What is your problem?" Henry yelled.

Without a word, Todd unlocked the door and yanked it open, launching himself out into the brisk, cold air before Henry could make a grab for him. He slammed the door as hard as he could, silently hoping to break something on Henry's precious truck but knowing he'd pay dearly if he had. He almost didn't care.

"Todd!" Cathy's door opened as well, and she reached for him. He stepped out of her reach and started walking down the road back the way they had come. "Todd!" she exclaimed again. "What are you doing?"

He didn't reply. Cathy kept pleading, but he ignored her, keeping his gaze down to avoid the stares of the people in the cars heading back into town. He knew that if he got back into the truck, he'd do something Henry would make him regret. Eventually, he heard the truck door slam and the wheels spin and spit gravel as they drove off. He looked over his shoulder, briefly watching them drive away. It was a good hour's walk back into town, something he knew would be miserable in the bitter cold, but he had sentenced himself to it.

Letting out a frosty breath, he ran his fingers through his already messy hair before starting back toward the cemetery. Cars passed him on the road, some people blatantly ignoring him while others slowed as if debating whether or not to pull over and talk to him. He kept his head down, refusing to look, hoping they understood that he just wanted to be alone. By the time he got back to the parking lot, the last of the cars were just starting to pull out. He stepped into the ditch, trudging through the snow to the row of trees that bordered the lot, hoping it hid him from those leaving. He caught sight of Mikayla's car, and he silently watched them leave. The last thing he wanted right then was to encounter the Bowie family.

He watched until the last car disappeared down the road; at long last, he was alone. It had been what he wanted, but at the same time, his heart longed for someone to appear and care. There would be no love waiting for him when he returned to the Farthing household. He knew Henry would be livid with him for making the scene he had. Todd would pay for it. Absentmindedly rubbing the long white scar on his forearm beneath his jacket, Todd clenched his teeth. Why was Henry so much bigger than him? Why couldn't Todd be braver and stronger?

The wind was icy and he pulled the too-big dress coat closer around his skinny self as he walked up the drive to the mourning house. His thoughts, ever wandering, turned to Michael, and his heart ached. Whenever things had gotten extremely hard with Henry, Todd had camped out at the Bowie's house. He had never told the twins about Henry's abuse — he didn't want anyone involved, not after Henry had threatened him the way he had. The Bowies had never questioned why Todd would show up on their doorstep at the strangest of times. They had always welcomed him with open arms. Ever since his parents had died, he had practically become a part of their family. They had included him in nearly everything, and he had cherished every moment with them. He was always reminded after the fact how much he craved a family again; his was destroyed by death and abuse. The Bowies had possessed everything he used to have, and he missed it so, so much.

But now, he realized as he stopped in front of the mourning house, their family had been broken as well. Because of him.

Todd's breath hitched as he thought back to the night of Michael's death. It seemed like decades ago now, but in reality, it had barely been a week. It haunted him, becoming something he knew he'd regret for the rest of his life, something he wouldn't be able to escape no matter how hard he tried. He could see it replaying before his eyes every time he closed them. The hate-filled fire within him raged. Hatred for the people around him. Hatred for Henry. Hatred for himself.

The mourning house was big and ominous, the entire structure creaking in the wind, moaning as if truly in mourning. The paint was peeling, and the wood was old and worn. A steeple rose from the top, bearing a large, ancient-looking bell that had to be rung by hand. It loomed over him, casting a huge shadow across the snowy ground like judgment.

With a shudder, he made his way around the back toward the cemetery. He let himself through the gate and silently walked past the graves, picking out his parent's adjoined tombstones among the others with his eyes:

Cooper Vinson & Tessa Vinson

10370 – 10414 10372 - 10414

Together in life, together in death.

He passed them.

The place was quiet, and only the sound of the wind and his footsteps crunching the snow broke the silence. It made him nervous, thinking back to the creepy stories he had heard as a kid about the spirits of the dead haunting graveyards. Brushing those foolish thoughts from his mind, he went to the freshly-covered grave and stood over it. Already a small pot of flowers had been placed in the snow beside the headstone.

He crouched down, gazing at the inscriptions on the tombstone once more. Michael Doug Bowie. It was almost ironic, he thought. He and Mikayla had always said that Michael would have to plan their funerals because out of the three of them he had always been the cautious goody-two-shoes. They had always expected him to be the last to go. How wrong they had been.

Todd knew he had to say something. Could Michael hear him? See him? "It should have been me," he whispered faintly, the words dancing out into the frosty air. "I should be dead, not you. You... you didn't deserve this." His breath hitched. His eyes burned, and he closed them but not before the first tear escaped and made a trail down frozen cheeks. Todd sucked in a choking breath. "I... I'm so sorry!"

He caved. His knees hit the cold hard ground as he buried his face in his hands and sobbed.