We stepped out of the gym into the daylight. It was freezing outside, or at least seemed to be. I ran. I'm not sure why, and I'm not sure that I knew where I was going. But I ran as fast as I could. I forgot about everything then, just counted the rhythms of my feet hitting the ground overandoverandover.

I was running through the campus, towards the woods, towards the bridge, towards the barn, towards the lake, towards the end of the earth. I was moving at the human equivalent of a full gallop, blindly. Time seemed to pause, to move, to blend together as if nothing truly mattered except continuing.

I skidded to a stop at the lake shore, falling to my knees. I dug without seeing the ground. Just below the first layer of gritty sand & soil was an almost-full bottle of Strawberry Hill. I grabbed it and leapt to my feet as fast as I could, taking a quick sip before turning around to offer the bottle to someone. Then I really and truly understood what had happened for the first time so far today.

Alaska. She wasn't here. She should have been here. It was someone else who died. Another Alaska Young. Our Alaska was still alive somewhere, I was sure. Pudge and the Colonel weren't here with me either; that didn't make them dead. Alaska had been so vital, so resilient. She'd lived through her mother's death when she thought she wouldn't. She'd lived through more then I thought I could. I drank from the bottle of Strawberry Hill again, swallowing far more of the alcohol than I'd planned. But for once, it didn't burn. I almost didn't notice it.

I looked around, alone entirely. I screamed, trying to prove to myself…….that the world wasn't ending? Who knows? No sound came out, though. I thought that could only happen in movies, it sounded clichéd in my head. I tried again. There. The whole forest along the lakeshore echoed with the sound of my screaming. I didn't scream again, though. I felt almost ridiculous afterwards. So, I could be heard, but I didn't want to be. Why weren't Pudge or the Colonel here? Where were they anyway? I took another drink.

I felt like I was drowning, like there were gallons and gallons of water pushing down on my chest, filling my lungs; I couldn't breathe. But the water was so far away….just a few feet, in all reality, but it seemed farther. I remembered last year, Alaska & the Colonel &I would come out here to drink, laugh and plot as if we'd live forever. We had been immortal then, nothing ended. Nothing would end. We couldn't even imagine it.

The bottle was nearly empty now, the pinkish glass shone in the dusky light like something magical. The lake was more beautiful now as the sun set; I'd never seen it this time of day, having almost always snuck out to the lake under the guise of night. I hoped that Alaska had seen the sun set here; I hoped it more fervently than anything. Alaska deserved to see all that was beautiful in the world before having her life taken away from her. I finished the bottle and collapsed on the ground, unable to do anything besides stare at the water.

The swan swam across the lake; floating ethereally across the water as if it didn't really exist. I knew that it was evil, vicious, & terrifying in real life. But from here it seemed to be friendly, even beautiful. But I was all alone. I wished there was someone I could turn to in this second, to tell them what I was thinking. On any other day, it would have been Alaska that I'd turn to. But she wasn't here today: how could she have left me here.

How was it fair? That she could just disappear like that, without saying goodbye. It would have seemed that Alaska would have had the decency to do that. How had she died? Straight and fast? Had that been her plan?

Or had it been an accident? I hated the idea of her dying like that, like in her final moments she had no control of her own destiny. She deserved the right to control her life, as did I. Didn't everyone?