Author's Note: 'Ello blokes. I watched Coraline about two weeks ago, and I loved it! I read the book afterward to find out more about some details. I'll attempt to incorporate the book and the movie universe, so if you're a Coraline book purist, you'll have to get your sick kicks elsewhere. For clarification, Wybie and Coraline should be in their senior year of college (because even if it's written in the fic, there's always going to be some schmuk who's still going to ask). Coraline (the book and the movie) don't belong to me.

(p.s. For those who're waiting for my FFXIII fic (I kinda doubt it), rest assured that I'm working on it!)

The lecture hall was silent save the intent scribbling by the three hundred something people who occupied it. They normally wouldn't be showing up to World literature since most of them weren't die hard history fans. Plus the professor's clipped monotonous tone emitting from a mouth that wouldn't open more than a few centimeters didn't add to the motivation. But today was exam day. So each seat was occupied, and the stragglers were treated to the most broken chairs, leftie seats, or broken leftie seats. Wybie was one such straggler, but late of only five minutes before the exam started. He really should've known that someone (whom he'd never seen before) would have taken his spot.

He had to contort his right arm to the left side of the extra small desk in order to properly start writing the essays. Strangely, he didn't find the essays to be as difficult as most people construed them. His favorite part of the class, though, was looking at the different literatures from across the world- it just gave him another understanding of different cultures. And oddly, he felt strangely satisfied with that. So when Wybie handed his essay in, there was a fleeting moment of uneasy detachment; he wasn't going to be taking a class like this again. Perhaps that feeling couldn't escape him because this was his final gen. ed, and this was the last of his final exam for the fall semester of his senior year at the university.

Unlike most students, he didn't walk triumphantly out of the lecture hall. The last part in a given quote for the essay left him feeling a bit perturbed. What was the quote they used? Oh, right.

'Now I have become death, destroyer of worlds.' He guessed the reason he remembered this line was hearing it from somewhere before.

Strangely, he couldn't remember the topic of the essay. Nor did he want to. So he pushed it out of his mind.

After Wybie climbed out the stairs that led to the exit of the lecture hall, he found the sky to be grayer than before. His shoes made a lone sound on the pavement of one of the parking lots he had to traverse in order to reach his apartment. Not many people seemed to be out- it was only three in the afternoon. That was probably they were done with their exams way earlier, and they were at home without a worry. Wybie, however, had his last exam on a Thursday. It could've been worse. He knew business majors had some exams on weekends. Good thing he wasn't one of them.

The lamp posts were already emitting a yellowish light confined in their own bubble. Somehow, they were comforting in that they were his only company in a cold day. There had been snow forecasts lately, but they weren't always fulfilling the expectations of people. Especially college students.'. Snow was no longer a strange sight for the Oregon native. He'd already seen it three consecutive years prior.

He suddenly remembered his freshmen year in which the RA for his floor tried to familiarize the students with each other with lame ice breakers, such as 'never have I ever…'

"Never have I ever….watched snow fall," Wybie remembers himself saying, amidst the surprise of his fellow New Englanders in the dorm. He couldn't blame them since it did Snow near the mountains in Oregon. But Grandma didn't really let him out of her sight- and she didn't seem to like traveling. Thus he never expressed his wish to see it.

And now, he'd seen enough of it to last him lifetimes. He only liked it when it fell. Not after when the snow trucks were done with it. Or when he had to tread it in wake of a class that should have been cancelled.

He finally reached the steps of his apartment- well, his and his roommate's. The apartments were actually segments of a small house, which was enclosed neatly in a neighborhood of university students. After unlocking the door, he started out his usual routine (which his grandmother had ingrained in him) of putting away his belongings, washing up and then making himself something to eat. Today, Wybie decided, would be veggie burger day. His grandma would kill him, knowing that he was eating processed food. But he was already in the mindset of being done for the semester, and he could eat practically anything at any time of the day. Yes, he would have days in which a peanut butter and jelly sandwich would suffice for dinner. Well, at least he wasn't worse than his roommate- whose existence depended on the microwave and a cup of ramen.

Speaking of his roommate, he was in a final for his major: physiology and neurobiology, which was practically a death sentence. Wybie's roomie was also a bright student from high school (acing honors/AP classes), but the course load of college was presented in such a different, and sometimes, non committal manner, that he had lost his motivation at the end of the first semester of sophomore year. That, and he was an international student who missed his home dearly. Wybie didn't blame him. He knew it himself that he couldn't live a thousand miles away from his grandma, not being certain if her health was always alright or if she needed company. So Wybie called her every night- their conversations lasting from twenty to even forty minutes. Wybie reminded himself to call her tonight, before leaving for winter break.

'The final dish,' he thought as he washed his plate. After putting it away, he walked to his room (which he really considered as a pseudo room because he didn't really feel attached to it). The first object that came in his line of view was his desk, next to which there was a large calendar attached to the wall.

'December seventeenth,' he thought as he looked at the calendar date for the thousandth time. He grabbed the black marker from the pencil holder on the wooden desk, crossing off the square box assigned to the date. He couldn't help but breathe out a sigh of relief before slumping on his chair. The day was officially over.

"Done for the semester, Wybourne?"

Wybie turned to his roommate who stood next to the doorframe, crossing his arms.

"Looks like it," Wybie said, turning to him. "How was your exam?"

"Let's not talk about it," his roommate replied with a wry smile.

"I wonder why they make PNB harder than mechanical engineering. I-it's like they're setting up everyone for failure," Wybie said, standing up to decide which things to pack.

"You're forgetting that I'm working towards the B.S here." (AKA, Bachelor of Science degree), his roommate said with a snort. "Anyway, let's talk about nicer things. Like seeing Coraline."

Upon hearing that, Wybie almost jumped before a reddish hue washed over his cheeks.

"Whoa there! Chill!" His roommate said, clutching his stomach as if he laughed too hard. "Just her name gets you fired up! I should see this Coraline."

"S-Stop that!" Wybie said, turning around and crossing his arms.

"Oh, right. Jealousy here, I see." His roommate was truly enjoying himself at this moment. He knew that what Wybie was feeling was not jealousy. One of his hobbies was to make Wybie flustered- it was just too easy. Wybie could be awkward as a teenage girl in front of her crush.

Wybie nearly stomped over to his bags before putting them on his bed to start packing things. He could feel his roommate's amused/sardonic glance on him.

"Don't you have packing to do too?" Wybie asked after noticing that his roommate wasn't leaving to his own affairs. "Aren't you taking the bus today too?"

"Nah- I already packed yesterday, remember?" He said before stretching. "And I'm catching the bus tomorrow- more convenient for my cousins."

"Well, go and make sure that you're not forgetting something." Wybie retorted.

"I'm not you, remember?" His roommate said before quickly exiting the room. Wybie rolled his eyes. His roommate was another story for another day.

Wybie decided that his laptop bag and a clothes bag were enough luggage- most of his clothes were at home anyway. The fastest way from the Northeast to the Northwest was by plane. The expense of it always kept him away from home during times like Thanksgiving Break and spring vacation. Wybie gave his room a final look, trying to make sure that he was taking all of the necessities with him. There had been a time in which he forgot his laptop plug at home (Grandma wasn't very happy about paying the shipment fee.) Another glance at the semi-neat room. Wybie was already acknowledging that he would see the same sight one month later.

"Got your keys, Wybourne?" His roommate asked from the kitchen, already delving into his shrimp ramen. There had been instances in which Wybie had forgotten his house keys while his roommate was out.

Wybie raised them.

"Don't I get a goodbye hug?" His roommate said, almost snickering.

"A month's way too short," Wybie replied in return, walking up the front door.

"Saving them for Coraline, I see…"

"What'd you say?"

"Have a very merry Christmas!"

After switching buses and arriving at the New York airport, Wybie underwent the usual process before one boards a plane. Finally, after he found his seat in the plane, put his laptop bag in the top compartment and listened to all of the redundant safety procedures, he decided to catch up on six hours of his sleep (which he missed quite a lot when studying for his more difficult finals).

His grandma was there to pick him up at the airport at 12am, as she insisted despite his protests of getting there himself in fear of her ailing health. She wouldn't even let him touch the wheel of her Chevy, saying that he needed rest after all that traveling. He didn't feel tired at all, talking about his new semester experiences. But once he got home, he collapsed on his bed for another six hours.

And it was exactly in six hours when Wybie would wake up.

"Wybourne! Wake up!"

Of course Wybie woke up to the sound that emanated the mornings at home. By now, he knew better than to test his grandmother's ability to walk upstairs to shake him awake, since people 'could become lazy' if they continuously woke up after seven. Grandma had probably taken an oath to be proactive and prevent Wybie from even thinking of waking anytime later. (Not that he woke up at later times in his dorm since he had an 8:30am class). The problem at home was that he didn't know how to better spend his day when he had more time at his disposal.

By the time he made it downstairs, breakfast was already put up on the table, consisting of a cheese omelet, toast, milk, orange juice and sliced oranges. Ms. Lovat didn't notice him walking in the kitchen, since she was engrossed in an open cabinet, looking for something.

"Good morning, Grandma," He offered, since she probably didn't hear him come in. She turned around and smiled.

"Good morning, Wybourne," She replied. "Sit down, child. Eat something. Heaven knows what you've been eating up there."

Although Wybie walked over the table, his protective instinct of his grandma prevented him from sitting down. "What're you looking for?," he asked. At that moment, his Grandma seemed to find what she was looking for. He then realized that it was her medicine, since it was the medicine cabinet. As a kid, once he became aware of the prospect of death, he developed an innate fear of medicine. The smell, the sickly shades of white and yellow. Medicine was taken when a person was sick. And it didn't always work. He knew that Grandma didn't want his help. She liked to do most things on her own. So he quietly sat down, not taking his eyes off her.

But he never voiced the fear of medicine since his grandma blatantly took the medicine and made him participate in it by bringing her a glass of water. So became used to the routines. Even then, he didn't like the pills in the orange prescription containers. He read the labels- perhaps trying to gain knowledge of them so they wouldn't remain so mysterious. He also liked to have an awareness of what exactly his grandma was taking, so he felt like he was helping her in some way.

So when she walked over with her cane, sat down slowly, poured herself a glass of milk and caught him staring at her, she casually said "for the arthritis. Ain't getting' any younger." Wybie nodded wordlessly and pulled over the omelet plate. He didn't push the topic of his grandmother's ailing health. Even the weather failed to alleviate the mood- he could see out of the kitchen window that today wasn't going to be a sunny day.

"So…anything new happened while I was gone?" Wybie asked, trying to start a conversation.

Ms. Lovat didn't seem to hear him-as if her attention was fixed on something he couldn't see. She seemed to be doing that more often, ever since last year. At first, he was annoyed with the silences on the phone, and then he started becoming worried if she was in deep thought. She usually was like this when she didn't want to tell him something.

"Grandma?" He asked after a while.

She shook her head, and then looked back at him, a little startled. "Oh, I'm sorry, Wybourne. Did you say something?"

"I-I asked if anything new happened," he said, not quite looking at her in the eye. Her gaze used to be domineering in his childhood, so he mostly averted her gaze.

There was a silence before she answered.

"Have you talked to your friend recently?"

Wybie stopped chewing on his sandwich. He knew which friend she was referring to. He swallowed uncomfortably. To be honest, he hadn't talked to Coraline in a while. Since months, perhaps.

"No," he answered. He wasn't going to add the 'not really,' part, knowing that she would want him to elaborate. He didn't want to get in that subject with his grandmother at the moment.

She slowly shook her head. "Wonder why this is happening to the Joneses now."

Wybie got a dreaded feeling as she said this- since she wasn't looking at him anymore. He was afraid of asking, so he didn't say anything.

"The Jones' girl- she tried to kill herself."

"…"

"…."

"…"

Wybie didn't breathe. The world seemed to stop, and he wasn't quite sure that he was present, on the table, sitting next to his grandma. The pitcher of milk, the juice carton, the tablecloth, the table, the stove, the table-everything seemed so foreign, so far away. And only then he realized how far away from reality he really was.

Coraline? His best friend Coraline? The girl who was always smiling, who wasn't afraid of camping in the woods, who was always facing her fears, the one who made no apologies for who she was. That Coraline?

Suddenly, the food in front of him seemed too cold to eat. He stood up.

"Where is she?" He asked, looking around. He didn't realize it, but he was looking for his keys of his motorcycle.

"The hospital- Wybourne, you didn't finish your breakfast!," she called after him. She knew that he lost his appetite.

"I'm not hungry anymore," he called out from the closet, procuring his black trench.

His grandma didn't reprimand him as she heard the slamming of the front door.

Author's Note: Was it torturous? Let me know what you guys think. Don't worry- this isn't going to be one of those "someone dies and so and so think about it" fanfics. Some things aren't clear in this chapter for a reason, so I shall cover it in the next chapter. And yes, I know I have a verbose writing style. Creative criticism is welcome, so please review!