Why do I get to go on living–when they're all gone? “Today marks the 2-year anniversary of the tragedy that tour through the town of [Brookstone] leaving many residents homeless and many lives lost,” the TV plays the local news in the background of the diner. A warm evening color shines through the windows of the diner. I used to ask myself that all the time, but now it almost feels like it never happened.Life just keeps going, not stopping for anything–or anyone in its way. Sometimes I close my eyes and try to remember how things were, but lately I think memories are starting to fade. I, just…

Hi, can I get you…? Ash opened her eyes and looked up to the side of her at the person standing over her. Is everything ok? The waitress said with a look of concern on her face. Yeah, I'm good Ash says as she quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. A Coffee sounds nice.

The door opens and Ash walks into her apartment closing the door behind her. “Home sweet home” she says. The phone on the table across from her buzzes and lights up 10 miscalls and 6 messages from mom–she just ignores it. Ash looks up at the large painting on the wall. I remember how long that took me, she said while looking up at it. It was a black, blue, white and grey painting of a girl with blue hair with half of her body buried in flowers. I still like the space dog more, she said to herself. Her apartment is full with paintings, most of them unfinished and everywhere, though her favorite was a painting of a dog in a spacesuit she made. Then there was her desk with a laptop, lamp and brushes and other art utensils scattered everywhere. A bed with a night stand next to it with a picture of Ash and her best friend Beth on top of it. And a bookshelf filled with sketchbooks, books and a few small action figures and stuffed animals that sat on the shelves. The lights turn off. Ash throws herself backward onto her bed and looks to the side at the picture frame of her and her best friend Beth from when she was alive, then takes it up and holds it up over her with a sad look in her eyes. There's this book I like called Fate–about a girl who goes back in time to save someone. She places it on her stomach looking up at the ceiling. “I wish I could go back”. With a tear running down the side of her face, she closes her eyes.

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