I never gave too much thought to death. I've heard people say that your life flashes before your eyes the moment you die like you see all the bad and good things you've done throughout life, which signifies final judgment. Except in that brief moment of passing, I did not recall the small white lies I told Mama or the charitable act of giving bread to the poor, instead, I remembered the lifeless eyes, shaking voice and cold hands of Miss Peterson.

She was one of my school teachers and neighbors in London, the place in which I was born and raised. Miss Petersen was an odd woman. She talked funny and had a habit of speaking loud and saying what she thought. She never stood for bullying. If she ever caught one of her students being mean to someone she wasn't scared to punish him, and she'd always try to comfort the person he'd hurt. Her punishments never seemed unfair and she seemed determined to make others happy.

I remember she was near the music room while the Headmaster was scolding me for my performance in the choir which he seemed quite fond of doing. I stood there looking down in silence, nodding every once in awhile to show I was listening. I looked in the corner of my eye and saw Miss Petersen's grey eyes piercing at me through the crack in the door. I wanted to cry because I didn't want her to think I was a bad pupil for being scolded.

I kept it in, though, and I endured until the Headmaster was done lecturing me and allowed me to leave. Miss Petersen was standing outside when I was leaving. I couldn't bear to face her, so I looked down at my feet to try and avoid her gaze but I could still feel her grey eyes staring at me. I walked quickly, just wanting to get away from her as soon as I could but then she spoke.

"Mr. Shtone," she said in her funny accent. I felt a lump forming in my throat, a couple of tears managed to make their way down my cheeks, but I forced myself to look up at her.

"Yes?" I could barely say without my voice breaking. She knelt down and took my face into her hands. She was biting down on her lip and her eyes quickly shifting as she looked up and down my face. She gently wiped the tears off my cheek.

"You're a good boy, Simon." Her words surprised me but I wasn't crying anymore. I stared at her in bewilderment and she stared back. Then she smiled, which made me smile.

"Vould you like to valk home viz me?" She offered me her hand and I graciously took it.

We walked home ever since.

There was one thing I noticed about Miss Petersen, and that was how people tended to treat her. Men very rarely opened doors for her, there were only a handful of students that respected her, and the women living in the neighboring flats never acknowledged her presence but would say mean things about her when she wasn't around. I asked Mama why people treated Miss Petersen so badly, and if she had done anything to deserve it. Mama just shook her head and said the only thing Miss Petersen was guilty of was being German.

I didn't understand what that had to do with anything, it wasn't like she could help that. Mama explained that people in London didn't like Germans because of the war. I didn't say any more. The war had always been somewhere in the background of my life, a justification for all things bad it seemed, but I didn't see why people had to be so mean to someone because she was from the same place they were fighting.

The war was becoming very serious though and many feared for the safety of London. It was eventually announced that children of the age twelve and under would be evacuated to areas that weren't as populated. Miss Petersen did not take the news well. She loved all her students very much, and she seemed to not be able to bear them leaving her.

She told me that she was very sad that I was leaving because she enjoyed my company and that'd she miss me. I told her I'd write letters to her and Mama, and that I'd come back one day and it'd all be like how it was. I remember she just smiled at me after I spoke, but her grey eyes weren't smiling with her.

Miss Petersen acted rather very strangely during the time leading up to our departure. She played her piano very late into the night, which drove all the neighbors crazy. She was very tired at school, and she had a very distant look in her eye when she spoke to me on our walks home. Sometimes her voice would break unexpectedly, and there were moments she couldn't stop wiping her eyes until her face was all red. I didn't know what to do to help her. I had never seen an adult act like this before and I was worried she was going batty. A lot of neighbors seemed to think so, but I didn't want to think that. I convinced myself that she'd snap out of it eventually, but this was proven wrong because as time went on she got worse and worse.

The day of our departure was pushed back a day and we all went to school for one more day, but Miss Petersen did not show up. Knots were twisting up in my stomach. Something was not right. Miss Petersen had never missed a day of school and I knew she'd never miss the chance to say goodbye to her beloved students.

The sick feeling followed me throughout the day. I walked home alone, and it only got worse as I got closer to the complex. The door to her flat was slightly ajar. It held a frightening silence. My heart was pounding but I forced myself to look inside.

I saw her slumped over in a chair. Her eyes were closed and all the colour had faded from her skin. My body began to tremble as I approached her.

"Miss Petersen…?" I called out to her, tapping her hand. Her eyebrows bunched together and she slightly opened her eyes. For some reason looking at her reminded me of a fire that was slowly sputtering out after no one had tended to keep it going. Her eyes slightly widened as she saw me.

"Vhat are you doing here?" She could barely manage to speak. I explained that the date of departure had been pushed back a day, and she just bit down on her lip and stared at me. I asked her if she needed help with anything but she said no. The more time I spent in there, the more I realized something wasn't right. I began to move away to go an look for help but she quickly took my hand.

"Please, shtay viz me, Simon," she begged me in a broken voice.

What I really wanted to do was to go outside and scream for somebody else to help, but I stayed and held Miss Petersen's hand. It felt so cold then, so much unlike how warm it was the day we first walked home together. Her eyes closed completely, and even though she was sitting next to me while I held her hand there came a point where I felt as if I was the only one in the room.

I felt tears streaming down my cheeks despite the fact I did not fully understand what was happening. I help her land for a long while. I knew it probably didn't matter anymore, but she asked me to stay with her, so I did.

I don't know how long I stood there with her. Mama eventually came looking for me. When she entered Miss Petersen's flat, she gasped and covered her mouth. I heard her say a prayer under her breath and then she told me to go wait in our flat. I obediently did so.

It was a very long time until Mama came back. When she did she sat me down and explained that Miss Petersen had been taking medication to help her sleep but it took a lot to be effective so she accidentally took too many. She was never going to wake up again.

I asked Mama why the medicine didn't work and she said that medicine can only heal the body and it was only Miss Petersen's soul that needed help. She told me only love can heal a person's soul, which Miss Petersen didn't get enough from the people who surrounded her. When she told me this I hoped to never see anyone go on like that ever again.

Sadly, though, on this island I saw too much of that and it broke my heart.

While the hunters were attacking, I suddenly found myself not feeling anything. I was not cold nor was a warm. There was no more pain and no more fear. I was enveloped in complete darkness. I stood there calmly, silence.

And then- there was light. It was not overwhelming, nor was I surrounded by it. It was almost as if it was pouring out of an opening door, and in its frame appeared the silhouette of a woman. It walked towards me slowly, I couldn't make out any visible distinctions of who it could be but then it spoke to me.

"Mr. Shtone?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Miss Petersen?"

I could hear her smile as she held out her hand towards me.

"Let's valk home togezer."

Author's note-This story was actually a writing assignment for my English class (and yes, it got an A+) and I've been holding onto it for two years now. I figured this was good enough to share I decided to publish it here. I hope you guys enjoyed!