Gone

Written by Nerdboy83

Note: I do not own the rights to the characters of nor the creation of Girl Meets World. Disney, Michael Jacobs, and April Kelly do. Also, this is a companion piece to another one of my stories, titled "Maya?", that I have uploaded.

The cold November air didn't bother her. The wind wasn't even blowing her brown hair, the strands weren't even twirling in graceful yet raging motions from the force of the element of the Earth. The window was open, yet the wind wasn't even noticeable, despite the curious fact that it was causing all sorts of havoc below.

Nor was the sounds of car horns and dog barks that cat called from the outside world, the natural sounds of New York City, New York, USA. She barely heard those. It all sounded like a masked song, peeking and zoning out of her observation behind a heavy layer of popping static in her mind. The static that consumed her young mind, blocking all thoughts and sounds from ever reaching her notice. Blissful ignorance.

It wasn't all those things that bothered her. No. It was something else, something much more personal than the sounds of the Earth outside of her room. It was a loss of something dear to her.

Earth. World. World. "Make your own world." Those words that her father, the optimistic yet strange man who taught at her school, had always said to her. The words that he seeded into her brain like it was an order. The words that she had always tried to abide by, to follow at any possible moment.

The words that SHE was told too.

The brown haired girl was sitting on a padded seat which was next to the open window, wearing her pink pajamas, and no socks. Her cheeks were stained red from the never-ceasing flood of crystal tears and eye water that had leaked for over two weeks.

Two weeks. Two weeks. Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since her best friend had been lowered into the ground. The celebration had been one that had not been joyous, and no one had smiled as the black box had been lowered down, down, down into the ground. Her mother had cried so hard, and the girl's mother had been hugging her so much, whispering untruthful echoes of "I'm so sorry" into the sobbing woman's ears.

She had been sobbing herself, and her father had been hugging her as well, trying to comfort his little girl, his baby girl, following such a traumatic event. An event that left four best friends broken, as well as her heart.

She had been there, the poor little girl had been there, when her best friend had died. So much blood. So much blood. It had stained her hands when she had cradled the body into her arms, sobbing like a mother who had lost her baby, as her parents had burst into the apartment. The screams of her mother had been so shrill, and the stare her father had given her was one of silent horror. She had barely noticed how calmly he had walked closer to her and the body. His voice had been so small, and it was shaking in an obvious intent to keep himself from screaming.

They had to put up a fight to remove the body from her grasp, and she had been so ruthless in her attempts to prevent such an action. She had kicked, she had screamed, and she had scratched at any skin of those who tried to take her away from her. In the end, it was a shaken and pale Lucas who had pulled her away from the corpse of her best friend. Lucas had pulled her close into his chest as she felt the sobs coming, and as she cried into him. She couldn't stand to look at the body, at the blood, crimson staining her black dress and the floor.

She just couldn't.

Her father had called the mother, it wasn't the police. He needed to do it himself. When he had shakily told her the horrible news, she could hear the other side being filled with sudden hysterical and desperate screams and sobs. It pained her heart, or it would have pained it, if it wasn't already shattered into millions of pieces.

Maya Hart. Killed by some madman who had sneaked in through her open window and had sliced her neck with a knife. The madman who had left running out of the window, leaping down onto the pavement below after seeing her walk in and scream, and who had broken his neck after landing.

Maya Hart. Fifteen years old. Bled out. Killed.

Maya Hart, who was now gone.

"Riley?"

She didn't notice the door creaking open, but she did hear the small voice of her father. She looked up from her lap, and saw him standing in her doorway, his eyes staring worryingly at her.

She knew that she was pale, but she didn't care.

"Yes, dad?"

Her voice came out in a small broken whisper, fragile, shattered. Like her heart.

"Do you... Do you want anything to eat?"

"No, dad. I'm not... I'm not hungry..."

Her father looked at her in concern and she knew why. She had barely eaten for two weeks, and it was beginning to worry them all. Her father, her mother, her brother Auggie, her Uncle Josh, her Uncle Shawn, Lucas, and Farkle. She was beginning to grow too thin to be healthy, and she had lost a lot of weight in two weeks' time. She looked like a skeleton almost.

"Riley... You need to eat something..."

"No dad, I don't... I can't..."

"Riley, sweetie-"

"I can't leave this spot."

Her father sighed.

"Fine, Riley. I understand. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, dad."

Her father started to close the door, but, he stopped.

"You know, if you want to talk, me and your mom are right here."

No reply. Another sigh. The door closed tightly, and she could hear the footsteps echoing away from her door. She sighed herself.

She was broken.

She was broken mentally, emotionally, and it showed. It showed on her thin frame, and it showed in her voice, and it especially showed on her face.

She couldn't leave that spot. She just couldn't. It was too hard for her to do so. The seat had been a part of her and Maya's friendship, the place where they talked and solved their daily issues with each other. It just had too much special memories to it.

Memories that were painful.

Why was she so broken? She knew that a person should react to a death in sorrow and sometimes in depression, but she was doing it too differently. She shouldn't be refusing to eat, she knew that, but she just couldn't. Every time she tried to eat, she could see the blood from the body, the pain stricken face of her now deceased best friend. She vomited and gagged it up in the toilet.

Maybe she was different. Of course she was different. She was so naive, and she could be so easily broken from even the simplest of revelations, sort of like the declassification of Pluto from a planet to a dwarf planet. The Riley Committee was necessary for her continued sanity. They had to protect her from some hurtful information to keep her together. The committee was broken, one member less, and as a result, she was broken.

"Hey, Riles."

The voice was so familiar and so recognizable that she could tell who it was by just the origin of the sound alone. It came from the open window, from the outside, over the wind. It caused her to spin around, and she saw her.

Maya. Maya Hart. The deceased Maya Hart, back from the dead, smiling, Maya Hart. She was standing outside the window, peering from the dark, and she was looking at her.

Riley smiled, wide, happy, and she grabbed her hand and pulled her in. Maya landed on her feet, ruffling her black skirt, her heel boots hitting the floor, hair long and blond. She was back, and that was all Riley cared about.

"Maya... You're back."

Maya laughed, and brushed a strand of long blond hair from her face. She didn't look so bad, apart from the weird pale skin of hers. She smirked at Riley.

"Of course I'm back, honey. Why would you think that I'd leave you?"

Riley smiled, happiness reaching into her heart and etching across her face. She was back, both Riley and Maya, best friends forever. Forever.

"I need to show Mom!" She grabbed her arm and led her out of her room, and down the stairs.

Topanga was sitting on the couch, enjoying a well written book, when she heard Riley go flying down the stairs from her room. She sighed, and put down her book, sitting her warm cup of tea down on the coffee table.

"Mom... She's back."

Topanga looked at her daughter, and Riley could see a hint of sadness in her eyes. She was also concerned with her teenage daughter, about her eating habits, about her skin, about her mind. She knew that Riley was smart, like her, but she was also easily hurt, like her father. It was genetics, and was uncontrollable, but she sometimes worried for her daughter. It was like she was broken since the funeral. So much tears. So much tears. Her sobs had been unbearable, along with Katy's.

It had sounded like she had lost a piece of her soul, a piece that was too valuable for her to lose.

And it had been.

"Who, Riley?"

She could tell that Riley was happy, and was smiling uncontrollably, and it somewhat eased her concern for her. She didn't know who she was talking about.

Riley turned to face her left side and looked directly into the air, like talking to her imaginary friend from youth.

"Go on, Maya, talk to her!"

Topanga looked at her, skin pale, eyes wide, and she moved back from her daughter. Now she was concerned, no, fearful even, and she had every reason to be.

Riley turned to face her mother, and laughed. She saw the look on her face, the look of shock.

"What?"

Topanga gulped and found her voice. She needed to tell her, she had to tell her, yet she felt a ping of fear in her chest that if she did, then Riley would deny it. She swallowed all fear and uttered her shaking voice, staring up into the face of her broken daughter.

"Riley... Sweetie... There's no one there."

That sentence hit her like a truck at a chicken, and she raised an eyebrow. Her face molded itself into a look of confusion at what her mother had said. She gripped Maya's arm tighter and she felt the warmth of her skin on hers. She looked down at her mother, who was still staring up at her with wide eyes.

"What... What are you talking about?"

Riley saw fear on her face, and she couldn't understand why. She let go of Maya's wrist and gestured to her.

"Mom, Maya's right there!" She saw Maya standing right in front of her and her mother yet, her mother couldn't see her.

"Riley, there's no one... There's no one there."

"What are you talking about?!"

Her mother winced at her voice, which rang out through the room. Her voice had come out in a sharp, shrill scream that had never been released from her mouth before that night. It was a side of Riley that she didn't even knew she had herself. The angry Riley. The Riley who was always behind her usual smile and naive dam, the Riley who was waiting for her to be enraged so that she could be released. The Riley that was just like Maya.

"Riley, sweetie, please..."

She couldn't believe it, she could see Maya clear as day, had been talking to her, but her mother couldn't. The fact was enraging, and soon, she felt the Other Riley come up again. Like a breaching whale. She gulped her anger down, and balled her hands into fists. Trying to control herself. She couldn't do it, however, and she pulled at her hair in clumps and started to pace around. She dug her fingers into her scalp and ripped a chunk of her hair out. Her mother gasped, and covered her mouth with one hand.

She spun around.

"No! She's there! I can see her! She's there!"

Her mother got up, and grabbed her shoulders.

"Riley, there's no one there. You're... You're seeing things..."

Riley gaped at this and felt anger in her veins that flooded all control. She felt herself go into a haze. Like a retreat of her consciousness backwards deep into her mind. She felt numb, and soon, her vision started to black out. Her mother became a distant shadow, the room faded, and soon, all she could see was Maya.

Maya was staring at her, a frown on her face. Riley felt her best friend clasp her hands with hers, and the warmth came back. As her vision got darker, Maya leaned over, and whispered into her ear, her voice an echo so close that it seemed that it was coming from her mind, from all around.

"Don't worry, Riles, I'll protect you."

And soon, Riley saw only darkness.

"Riley! Do you hear me?!"

Topanga shook her daughter's shoulders, causing her brown hair to twist and twirl in strands. She couldn't take the events that were occurring right in front of her, it was almost too much for her to handle. Topanga could feel Riley become limp for a second while in her grasp, and she thought that she had fainted. But, before she could catch her, Riley righted herself, and stood up straight. She looked at her with a smirk, a smirk that she had seen a couple of times before, from Maya when she was alive, as she had always done when getting into trouble.

The smirk of devilish glee.

Riley pulled away from her grasp, and began to walk into the kitchen. Topanga followed her, trailing slightly behind her in both curiosity and horror.

Riley walked with the same movements of Maya, her hips swaying back and forth as she walked slowly to the kitchen drawer. Topanga watched as Riley pulled open one of the drawer, and grasped something inside it. She didn't need to see it to see what she had grabbed, cause she knew what was in the cabinet.

Riley pulled out a large bladed knife. Shiny and glistening in the kitchen lights.

"Hello, Mrs. Matthews..."

Topanga gaped at that, and just stared at her daughter. The voice was an imitation of Maya's own, and it was surreal coming from her daughter. She backed away, as Riley walked towards her, twirling the knife in her fingers, smiling at her like Maya. Just like Maya.

Just like Maya.

"R-Riley?"

Riley smiled wider, and chuckled. A chuckle that caused her to feel a chill run quickly down her spine.

"Sorry, but Riley isn't here."

Riley walked closer to her, as she backed away from her.

Topanga could see Maya in the face of her own daughter, the smirk, the voice, the movement as she walked. It was so unnatural, so insane for it to be true. Insane. Riley was insane, and she needed help, serious help. She felt tears start to fall down her cheeks, as she realized the gravity of the situation. Her daughter had broken, mentally, the death was too much for her to handle so she had to form a version of Maya. A Maya that was never going away. A Maya that would always stay with her. Forever.

She felt her foot go falling off the rise in the floor separating the kitchen and the main room, and soon, she followed. She landed on her back, and pain shut through her body like an electric bolt. She rubbed her back, and looked up.

Riley jumped onto her, pinning her struggling body down with one hand, raising the knife with the other. Topanga tried to escape from her grasp, but her arms were slashed by Riley, blood seeping from the wide slices in the skin.

"Riley! No! Stop! You need help!"

Riley gripped her throat, and suddenly, Topanga felt no air. She gasped, she choked, and yet, she couldn't breathe. Riley squeezed tighter. And tighter.

"No, Mrs. Matthews, you need help."

She raised the knife, and plunged it into her with the speed of light.

Topanga screamed, but that soon ceased as the blade was plunged into her throat, cutting it off in a gurgle. Her eyes stared up at Riley, and she could see no mercy, no remorse in those brown eyes. Blood began to seep out, covering everything in a sticky red, yet Riley ignored it.

She continued to plunge the blade into her mother, over and over again, like a frenzied animal. Her teeth were barred, yet her voice was calm, almost laughing. Her mother's flailing arms began to slow down, and soon, she just stopped fighting completely. Blood was staining her daughter's face, her face, and she just ignored it.

"You need help, Mrs. Matthews. You need help. You tried to take me away from Riley. I can't let that happen. You need help. What the heck were you thinking?"

"No one will ever come between me and my best friend."

Soon, Topanga felt a numbness, and then, darkness.

Riley opened her eyes, and noticed that she was in the kitchen. Laying on the ground to be more precise. The lights almost blinded her, and she raised one hand to shield her eyes. She stopped as she noticed the red stains on her hand. She sat up, and felt a sticky substance on the ground underneath her hand. She looked down, and she opened her mouth to scream.

Her mother was laying on the kitchen floor, her body covered with hundreds of stab holes, blood seeping from a huge one in her neck. Her eyes were glassed over, and her skin was a pale white.

Riley tried to scream, but before she could, her mouth was covered by Maya. Smiling Maya, covered with red from her hands to her face. Riley felt fear wash over her, and soon, she felt Maya hug her. Shock consumed her mind, flooding her nerves, and she felt calm. Calm even as she was hugged by her blood covered best friend, near her dead mother's corpse. She heard Maya whisper into her ear, her voice calm and heavy with gasps for breath.

"It's okay, Riles, I'm here, I'm here, and I'm here..."

"Ma-Maya... What happened... What did you-?"

"Oh, Riles, she didn't understand. She was going to take you away from me. Separate us."

"What did you do?"

"I had to stop her, but it's okay. It's all over now. We can't be apart, we'd die, right Riles? Right? Right, Riles? Right?"

"Yes."

"Best friends forever?"

A smile stretched across Riley's face.

"Yes. Best friends forever."

The two began to giggle, hugging each other.

Riley didn't notice the scream. The scream from her father, who had gotten up and walked downstairs to get a late night snack, who was standing in the living room. She didn't notice the knife, bloodied, dropping to the floor to clang on impact. And she certainly didn't notice the fact that she was standing up in the kitchen, all alone.