Beca stared blankly at the wall before her, forcing herself to stay upright instead of going back to bed. She was supposed to return to the real world, she was supposed to move on and become a functioning adult. Instead here she was fighting the reminders of the life she had known, the happiness and love that had become hers, only to be taken away so quickly.

Her mind flashed with memories, kisses and smiles. Then it fell down around her all over again, images from the accident flooded her consciousness, that last horrified look on her lovers face as they were thrown through the air, the way the doctors had screamed about them both as they entered the emergency room. It was blurry but everything was there and it haunted her every day.

Everyone had tried to shake her from it, her father and every one of the Bella's but it never changed. It was always the same thing but different wording. No matter how she tried to explain it they didn't understand how it felt to be truly alone in the world. She'd lay in bed day in day out, scared of turning on the television for fear of seeing a happy couple or a car crash.

The service had been simple but perfect. There had been a reception which all of their friends and some people Beca didn't know attended, there were touching speeches and heartbreaking photos. At some point a band took the stage and played soft music, ultimately ending in "Carry On" by Fun. She didn't know why that stuck in her mind but it seemed mocking to her, there was no moving forward for her.

She sat and wrote a letter at her desk.

Dear Chloe.

I know that you're gone but I'm hoping this helps me find my way. Every day I think about you and the things we had. My mind betrays me sometime, begging me to join you but I know how disappointed you'd be if I have in. I can't let it go, I can't forget. No matter how I try you're all I dream of. The feel of your lips, the softness of your hands, the way you nudged closer in your sleep. It's too much, too real.

They tell me to move on but where do I go? There's no distraction. I see you in strangers on the street, in words from books, in my morning coffee. Memories and ideas haunting me everywhere I go. You probably think I'm being dramatic but if you're watching over me like they say you are, I hope you understand. I feel like it might take me soon; that I might give into these terrible urges. I know they'll say it was selfish but I hope they understand.

Cameron misses you, he texts me every day to make sure I'm still here. Your parents haven't spoken to me since your funeral; I think they blame me because I didn't drive that day. If I had then maybe you'd be here. Sometimes I think about that for too long and I hate myself for having that one lazy moment. It seems so small and trivial but it could've changed everything. I drive faster than you, maybe we wouldn't have had the accident at all or maybe we both would've died.

I don't know why that though is comforting to me, I'm sure Aubrey could tell me with all her fancy psychology but I think she'd be horrified to know the things that float through my head. She isn't coping too well herself but she denies it, forever putting on the brave face to protect everyone around her. There are moments though where I'll say something and the devastation hits her like a wave all over again.

I love you, in life and death you're the only person I will ever love. You were like the sea, every touch a wave and every kiss a current, pulling me in and wrapping me in you.

Forever yours, Beca Renae Mitchell.

With a heavy heart she left the house, still in her pyjamas. The brunette started her car and drove towards the cemetery where Chloe had been buried. Despite her troubled thoughts she was extra careful, watching her mirrors as other people merged behind her for fear of a repeat. She felt the anticipation build within her heart as she pulled up, tears rushing down her face as her fingers delicately traced the outlines of the letters on her deceased lover's headstone.

She was too young to be taken; a mere twenty four and she'd been ripped from Beca's grasp. The woman tucked the letter between the headstone and the marble slab covering the oaken coffin. Her feet carried her away, running through the rain to her car as the cold reached her bones. The car took off a little sharper than expected; gravel crunching between the tyres, caution thrown out the window.

Beca Mitchell never made it home, being hit by a semi-trailer that failed to break in the rain. The circumstances between hers and Chloe's death held ridiculous similarities, some of their friends and family would even go on to ask the police if it was possible the brunette did it on purpose but were told it wasn't.

Only one thing was certain, as the musician flat lined on white hospital sheets a certain ginger angel cried overhead.