There were the glory days. The days where Astrid and her friends would laugh at school and talk during math class just to annoy their teacher. The days where everyone shipped Astrid and Snotlout as the school's OTP, but in reality Astrid had her heart set on Hiccup, the clumsy, awkward boy who loved drawing and dragons. Snotlout was still a friend to her, but not a boyfriend.

The fun days that Hiccup, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut all were still alive.

The conversations about dragons never seemed to stop. Hiccup had written a book called "The Book of Dragons" which he had printed out in sheets of paper along with drawings to go with each dragon. Snotlout had always argued that the Monstrous Nightmare had always been the best and would forever remain the best. Fishlegs preferred the Gronkle, while Ruffnut and Tuffnut like the Hideous Zibbleback. The two-headed dragon reminded the twins of themselves.

Hiccup had created the most dangerous dragon for himself. The Night Fury was the first dragon he ever drew or made stats for. He had ever nicknamed it "Toothless", seeing as it had retractable teeth. He even drew out full saddle designs and everything.

He had created the Deadly Nadder, embarrassingly, when he first met Astrid in sixth grade. He had been home schooled for the first few grades (hence the dragon geekiness), and therefore was having a tough time adjusting to school life. Astrid had inspired the Nadder's blue scales with her bright, blue eyes that lit up his whole day. The yellow and orange bits on it's scales were an exact shade of her hair.

When Hiccup had told her the story, she had grown a personal attachment to the Nadders. Even the ones that were purple and red. They had been created because of her, and therefore they were her species of dragon.

That was before they all died with their creator.

The car had come out of nowhere. Astrid was driving her friends home after watching "Rise of the Dragon Riders" in theatres. She had heard the sirens and tried to pull over to let the policeman pass, but the car (driven by the man the policeman was chasing) smashed into her car's side, strewing wreckage across the highway. The policeman immediately called for an ambulance, but they arrived too late to save the passengers in Astrid's car. They only found the driver alive, her blonde hair streaked with blood.

She was in a coma for weeks on end. Multiple times they discussed pulling the plug, but she seemed to be improving slightly as the weeks wore on. Her whole lower body had been shattered, leaving her in a full body cast with a serious blow to the head.

It was five months of painstaking recovery procedures before Astrid Hofferson finally woke up. Nobody wanted to tell her what she had done, because how so you tell someone she had killed her friends when she believed they were right next to her, giving her hugs and saying they were glad she was alive?

No one told her she was crazy.

No one told her she was alone.

No one told her they would never come back.

She claimed she saw them every day, and no one wanted to take that joy away from the girl who had experienced so much pain. Because that would tear her apart, piece by piece, until nothing remained of Astrid Hofferson but a shell.

So they let her hallucinate. While they hoped and prayed she would see the truth, they never told her. She continued to live her life as if her friends were there, and no one told her the truth.

She couldn't be told she was hallucinating.