So I guess that whole 'update every night' thing failed. Sorry for the wait. This is the second to last chapter, and stuff is definitely still heavy. WARNING: If you are bothered by mentions of suicide or suicidal talk, do not read this chapter. Also, I own nothing.

Chapter Four-I Die Without You

Two months, two weeks and two days she does not speak to me. It is the most horrendous time of my life thus far and I begin to fear that it may last forever. It is worse than all of the beatings I faced as a child. It is worse than all of the isolation I have felt in my primary school days. I feel my life tearing at the edges even as I hold myself tighter and tighter, curling back up into my ball of anti-social tendencies and isolation. My friends at school begin to shun me. The torment at the hands of Potter and his friends increases. I see her with him more often than ever before. I feel blank and hopeless and dead as I ride home in an empty train car for the very first time.

My parents, rarely perceptive of anything about my life, are concerned about my behavior. I feel like I cannot go to any of my usual haunts for fear that she will be there, or that I will go mad from the reminders of her. Even my own room reminds me too much of her. I spend the vast majority of my time hiding in the basement, sometimes with a book, usually with nothing at all. Only then, in near absolute darkness, with only a dim flashlight for company, can I sometimes forget the mess I have created for myself. I rarely find myself with an appetite and peaceful sleep comes even more rarely. Every time I close my eyes, I see her face, tears of hurt and betrayal washing down it, cleansing her of me. Every time I look out the window, I see her running through the trees and grass, daring me to catch her. Every time I lay down in bed at night, I imagine the nights we spent together, both as children and as lovers. All of it gone. All of it lost to a few angry words.

Her family goes away in August. I venture out into the world a little more, at my mother's insistence, but I still feel lost. Our world is hollow and empty with only me to fill it. But still I find myself drawn to our spots and all the happy memories that go with them. I sleep outside under our tree for a whole week before my mother makes me come back home. I cannot escape from my grief and regret. It consumes me. On the last night of August, I sit under the tree with a long string of sturdy rope that I have nicked from my father's workshop. He will be very angry when he sees it is gone. But it does not matter. It has been two months, two weeks, and two days too many. I will be gone soon too.

I am so intent upon my inspection of the trees limbs, wondering which will be sturdy enough to hold my weight, that I do not hear the stones crunching underfoot or even the small intake of breath as she approaches me. Only when she abruptly sits next do me am I startled enough to notice. "Hey," she says quietly. She is not looking at me. She sounds very far away.

At first I do not say anything. I simply do not believe that it is real. That she is real. The manifestation of my conscience perhaps, or a hallucination brought about by the closeness of death is far easier to believe. But then her hand lightly grazes mine over the rope and I know that she has come. Now that I look at her, really look at her, I realize just how much the last two months have affected her as well and that finally makes me believe. Her skin is far too pale, her eyes too dim, yet also glistening, as they always are. She is crying again. I once vowed, after a bully teased her at school, to never allow anyone else to make her cry. Now I cannot even see her without causing those same tears.

She speaks calmly, but the rough quality of her voice betrays the cracks so close to the surface. "Your father noticed a rope was missing from his stores. Knowing how you've been lately, your mother was in quite a state. She had no idea where even to begin looking, and she begged me to find you before it was too late. I knew I would find you here…" her voice finally breaks entirely, barely restrained sobs catching at her throat. "But I was so afraid that…that you'd be…that I'd find you…you…up…up there…"

Her hands now cover her face as she finishes her struggle to say her piece. I do not know what to say. I feel like I may burn up from the shame and guilt that I feel. How could I ever imagine abandoning her like a coward, whatever she thinks of me now? I throw the rope into the water in disgust, not caring about what my father will say or do to me later. I do not dare to touch her yet—I do not deserve to touch her yet—but I hope the sight will bring her some comfort and reassurance.

We sit for a very long time in silence, with only her quiet tears to break the still night. Finally, it becomes clear to both of us that she has no more tears to cry. And, for the life of me, I still do not know what to say. There is no magic word to make everything better, but I cannot even fathom where to begin. I do not have any experience rebuilding a structure that has been so thoroughly annihilated.

She stands. "You should get home. I'll tell them what happened. But they'll still be worried," she says roughly. She has lost hope in me and I do not know how to make her believe again. One step. Two steps. Too many steps. I cannot let her go. I chose this destiny. I will not lose it now because of my cowardice and shame.

"Lily, wait!" I shout, turning to her abruptly. She has covered much ground, but not too much. Slowly, she turns back to face me. More tears stream down her face, but there is more to the shining in her eyes. I do not have it in me to dare to believe it is hope. "I…I'm so sorry." It is nothing. It is entirely insignificant. It does not even begin to express the bottomless depths of my regret. But it is enough to start.

She does not rush towards me now, but she does return. We talk long into the night. It is nearly dawn by the time we make it home. It is painful and difficult and nothing is entirely forgiven, but it is a start. She takes my hand in hers as we make the long journey home.

Just before the door to my house opens and I have to face the consequences of even more poor decisions, she leans in and whispers in my ear, so close that her breath from each word makes me shiver. "Whatever you have done, whatever you will ever do, however terrible, horrible, and idiotic, I could not live in a world without you. I could never stop loving you and my world would never be whole again. Please think about that next time you decide to do something utterly stupid," she says, partially in jest but also with intense severity. Her words are steely, but my heart still finds reason to flutter a little, still finds reason to hope. Then, hand still in mine, she kisses me lightly on the cheek and is gone.

It is a very long time before everything is repaired. But it is, eventually, repaired. By the time two more months have passed, I can call her a friend once more. By the time a year has passed, she is mine again. It is our very first and probably the largest bump a relationship could possibly have, but I have nothing stronger in me than my love for her. I did not know that one person could both make you fly and keep you grounded in the same breath. She is my world. And for reasons I cannot fathom, I am hers. She is worth every trial I will ever face, just to see her smile and know it is mine…

Reviews? Even if you hated it?