There is a moment, right after you die, where everything stills. Peace settles over like a gentle summer's breeze, drifting over you in a warm wave. Quietly, it soaks into you. Filling every inch, until you are almost bursting with this newfound feeling. It breathes a new life into you, pushing out everything else. Slowly, clipping out everything that has you tethered to the earth. Your greatest tragedies, your triumphs, your enemies, your loves. Every last one until you are free. Floating. Nothing left to tie you down.

It whispers into your ear, taunting and tantalizing. Begging you into staying, into living a life with no fears. Without pain or heart break. And it is tempting. So, so tempting to just stay.

But there is a pull deep in your chest, pleading for you to ignore the words.

You are presented with a choice. Two doors. One will take you back. The other lets you stay. Floating. Drifting. Finally at peace.

It's not a hard decision. Not for you. You weren't done. Your life wasn't over. You had so much more you wanted to do. So much more to live for. You had only just met her. Only just started your life with her. The one and only true love in your life. You needed more time.

You always needed more time.

With a decisive nod you choose door one. The choice makes the serenity shatter. Splinter into a thousand pieces.

The warmth starts to retract, leaving your body breathless and heaving. The cold punching into your stomach, tears flowing freely down your face.

You aren't given any guidance, only a warning that when you return it will not be as it once was. And one solitary rule. Do not reveal yourself to the living. No matter what.

That was it. That was all they left you with. Banishing you because of your choice.

Just as quickly as you arrived, you were sent back.

A terrible pull lurches in your stomach. The heat that was encompassing your body is gone. The cold crawling into the deepest crevasses of your bones. You feel like you are spiraling. Everything is out of your control. Lights swirl past, blinking and flashing, blinding you. Sounds hammer into the air. Each noise spikes and crescendos with your movement. You're spinning, you're twisting. Falling. Falling.

Nausea surges through you and your brain clouds. Your skin feels like it's been lit on fire, but your bones are practically shaking from the freeze. It feels like you are being clawed apart from the inside.

It's too much. It's all too much and you scream and writhe. Desperate for any relief. Wishing, praying to go back.

All at once it stops.

The air around you quietens. It stills. No longer a maelstrom of disaster, but rather a lowly howl.

And just like waking up, you're back.

Slowly, ever so slowly, you open your eyes. It's dark, grey sky and clouds blocking the sun's rays from warming the earth. The day's melancholy affecting those trying to go about their days, dressed in black and permanent frowns plastered on their faces. Thunder rumbles, deep and foreboding, threatening a storm to come. You blink a few times, trying to rid yourself of the haze that has settled over you. You're standing in the middle of a street, the buildings around it vaguely familiar. You had only been there once or twice, but you recognize it all the same. People are milling all around you, but none seem to notice your heaving form or the way your legs shake and wobble. You stumble over to a nearby lamppost, reaching out for its pole as support while you catch your breath. Fingers ghost through the metal, appearing on the other side, your body lurching forward at the unexpected loss of support. Trying again, you can only feel the cold of the metal, the texture of the scratches etched into its siding, your fingers gliding through the lamp post as if there was nothing there. Panic settles over you, your breath picking up in pace. Stepping away you place a hand on your chest, a desperate attempt to calm the stuttering of your lungs, only to find that where there was once a beating living heart, there is nothing but silence.

"Oh my god," you cry out, clutching at your chest, blinking away the tears rapidly working their way to the surface.

"Oh my god."

You stumble down the sidewalk, the passing walkers a mere blur in your vison. Little do you know that they walk straight through you, only to come out the other side with an unnatural shiver. Your feet are blindly guiding you, following the warm glow that your shocked mind is too disjointed to recognize. You mindlessly make your way past the buildings, away from the crowds, deeper into the cold of the fall and the green of the city. A wrought iron gate lies ahead and you briefly think about how you are going to get past the thick lock keeping the gates closed, but when you attempt to pick the lock up you just sink through. Your body moving through the bars as if through water. You appear on the other side, slightly daze, and a little amazed.

Hundreds upon hundreds of headstones, stick up from the muddy, dying grass like sentries on guard. It hits you why you know this place.

You had only been here once, many, many years ago. Clarke had asked you to meet her parent's and you had full heartedly agreed, eager to make the best impression. Only to find out that two headstones and a beautiful poem of meeting one another again was what was waiting for you.

Your feet move again, but this time it is on your own accord, because you know why you are here. You desperately wish and pray and hope that all of this is a dream and that the worst thoughts going through your mind are nothing but nightmares. But as you approach closer you are hit with a wave of warmth. It washes over you. Makes it easier to breath. It's like having a burst of life thrust into your heartless chest and you think you know why.

The minute your eyes land on her, the stifling air lifts, allowing you to breathe. Everything seems brighter. The colors more vibrant, the sky less gray.

Clarke.

She's wearing all black, a color she hardly wears because it makes her sad. And you know that this isn't a dream.

The golden tresses of her hair sparkle in the dapples of sunlight peeking through the clouds. There is a smile on her face, small and sad. And her eyes. The once vibrant blues of the ocean are pale and dark, ringed with red, glimmering with tears. Sad just like the smile on her face. Black shadows color under her eyes and you know she hasn't slept in days.

She stares at the three headstones before her. Two worn down from years of weather, but the third is new. Still shining from its polish. The earth in front of it still fresh and turned over.

You take a step closer, focused on the newest addition. Your eyes scan across your name, beautifully etched into the stone. She buried you with her parents. The only family she had, now laid to rest with the one she lost years ago.

No. No this is not a nightmare.

Clarke jerks forward suddenly, a sob ripping through her lungs and echoing around the grounds, unheard except by your ears. She crumbles to the ground, one hand clutching at her chest, the other gripping the grass beneath her. The sobs wrack across her body, making her shoulders shake with their might. You reach out for her, desperate to hold, to comfort, but your fingers sparkle and glimmer as they dip beneath her skin.

She sits up with a shaky breath, looking down at her arm where your hand had just passed through. Her fingers hover over the skin. A reverent look appears on her face before it crumbles.

"Why'd you leave me," she cries, angry hot tears pouring down her face. "Why'd you leave me?" She looks up from her arm and her eyes lock onto yours.

"Clarke, I never left you."