'There are many things happening now that shows us that, right now, is a time to live and love.'
Stevie Wonder


Susan was right; she did catch a cold on the very next day. She lies, shivering in her lumpy bed in her apartment, and cocoons herself under her thin bed sheets, shivering although it is already noon.

It is a Sunday, and her only day off from being a nanny. She misses being around people now, and she thinks back ruefully to a time when she would've been happiest when she cut off all forms of contact from anyone.

Her nose is stuffy, and she sniffles pathetically. She feels completely and utterly horrible. She feels hot and cold at the same time, and she shakily reaches for a tissue.

The cassette still lies by her side.

Susan pulls the blankets up to her chin, and she attempts to sleep. Although she hasn't eaten in the last twelve hours, her appetite is lost. She wears long, comfortable sweat pants and a furry sweater but she still feels the cold.

Her eyelids burn.

She wonders dully what Katie and Lucy are up to now. Katie had mentioned something about bringing Lucy somewhere…

Her doorbell rings.

Susan doesn't recognize the noise; it's been a long time since anyone besides her visited this apartment. Her eyes widen, and she rasps out, 'Who is it?'

'Mrs. Pevensie!' she hears Lucy say from outside. 'We've come to visit you!'

Susan freezes. She simply cannot let Katie and Lucy see the state of her apartment. She hasn't swept the floor or dusted cupboards in years. She hesitates for a little while longer, and the doorbell rings more urgently. A loud crash is heard and some furious whispers.

Susan throws her bedcovers off, puts on the only decent robe she has, and goes to open the door, feeling of dread and mortification increasing with every step.

She unlocks the door, and pushes it open timidly. Lucy is standing outside, with Katie holding her hand, and Adam standing beside her, hands in his jean pockets and looking beyond her interestedly.

'Sorry,' Lucy says sheepishly, and she shows Susan the rusty, gilt sign that says 3B that hung outside her door. 'I accidentally ripped it off.'

'It's okay.' Susan murmured, and she awkwardly welcomes them inside, cheeks burning furiously.

She knows that they are slowly taking in every inch of her dusty apartment, from the moth-eaten curtains, to the ancient kitchen.

'Wow. Your apartment certainly is…' Katie started awkwardly. 'Very nice.'

Susan cringes inwardly. 'I know it isn't much but…'

'I like it.' Lucy says decisively. 'Anyway, Mrs. Pevensie, we were just going to the zoo! Would you like to come along with us?' she asks excitedly.

Susan thinks of her headache and her stuffy nose.

'I'm afraid I can't, darling.' Susan bends down and tell Lucy reluctantly. 'I'm really sick.'

'It's okay then. Mrs. Pevensie can't come, so we'll buy her a souvenir.' Katie gave Susan a small smile, and she smiles weakly back. Adam is looking at the only picture she has in the apartment. It is a picture of her and little Joseph. He looks at it with an unreadable expression on his face.

She doesn't have any pictures of them.

Not anymore.

Susan hugs her robe closer to her. Adam turns away from the picture, and Susan quickly looks away, not wanting anymore awkward moments.

'Well then, we best be going.' Katie says, and she jostles Lucy out of her apartment. 'Bye, Mrs. Pevensie!'

'Bye!' Lucy bids dolefully, and Adam follows wordlessly. Susan silently closes the door behind them and she is left alone in her apartment, once again. Her head throbs even more painfully. She walks back to her bedroom.

She passes by the picture of Joseph, and she pauses to look at it, like she does every single morning.

It was taken when Joseph had just been born, by a garrulous nurse who had an old-fashion camera at the ready. Nate lay by her, eyes unfocused. Susan's hair was drenched with sweat, and she had a giddy smile on her face. Joseph was bundled in blue cloth, and his eyes were closed.

Susan touches the cold glass of the photo, gently stroking Nate's face.

She walks away, and thinks longingly of her bed, her nose making her feel rather irritable.

Her bedroom seems much more foreboding now, for some reason. The List lies on her nightstand. She remembers that she still has a long way to go.

Susan idly picks it up, and smoothes out the crumpled paper.

Susan has no idea which one she wanted to do next.

Susan coughs violently, and her throat clogs up with phlegm. Her lungs protest weakly. She places the List back, and plods to the kitchen in search of a cup of cool water to soothe her sore throat.

She passes by the very room she found Edmund cassette. She pauses outside the door.

2. Sort out the boxes.

--

Susan shakily opens the door, and flips on the switch. The room is still piled high with boxes sealed shut with shiny tape. Susan takes a deep breath, and reaches for the box nearest to her. It is a tiny box, and the word Photos is written across the top in big, black letters she recognized as her own. She remembers the day after the mind-numbing train accident, when she numbly sorted through everything and piled them into dreary boxes, never to be seen again.

She tugs on the flaps, and half-hopes that it will not budge.

Tape from several decades ago gives way easily, however. The tape snapped open, and Susan opened it tentatively.

There is nothing inside except for a small stack of black-and-white photos.

Susan picks them up, and carefully looks at the first picture.

Pictures in those days were extremely rare, and cameras were large, bulky things on tripod stands and you had to crouch behind a thin black cloth to take a picture.

This is a family photo.

Susan pushes back her tears and forces them back into her ducts, and she tries to look at the picture with detached interest. The quality is grainy and rather faded.

Susan acts as though this family is not hers.

She looks at a tall, blonde boy in a tight, collared shirt and observes how uncomfortable his expression is. A cheery girl in a puffy dress smiles brightly, showing off a missing front tooth. A surly-looking boy glares, bow tie lopsided. Husband and wife sit down in front on chairs, looking very distinguished and with a distinct smile on their faces.

Susan pretends not to take notice of a dark-haired girl standing in the corner of the photograph. Instead, she looks at the others.

Next is a photo of a wedding. Susan refuses to look at the herself. Instead, she looks at the handsome groom, with a worried smile on his face. She remembers how that wedding went.

--

It was barely a few days after the train crash.

They had already booked the date for the wedding, even though Susan wanted to post-pone it further. It was a grim affair, that wedding. Only half of the guests showed up, and plenty of them were gloomy throughout the entire evening. The ceremony was rushed, and so was the dinner.

Susan had tried not to cry for the whole evening, and the wedding turned sour. Aunt Alberta even cried constantly.

Susan had always pictured her wedding as a cheery day, with people cheering all over the place and confetti thrown everywhere. Guests left hurriedly as soon as their vows were said. Barely three hours into the wedding, and everyone was gone.

Susan didn't care much.

All she could think about when she walked down the lonely aisle was those nine empty seats she reserved for nine people, and the fact that none of them could've attended.

--

And now here she is. While they rot underground, she rots away in the air.

Susan furiously rubs her eyes and moves on to the next photo. Susan can tell this one used to be colored, but the reds and yellows have long since faded away. It is a photo of Eustace, back when he was a little child of five. He was scowling into the camera and there were four other kids in the background.

A golden haired boy is running up to the camera, mouth open, about to speak some words Susan would never hear again. Susan herself is standing at the corner, brow furrowed and shouting. Lucy is being chased by Edmund, and her face is forever immortalized into an expression of utter delight and joy. Edmund simply seems bent on catching her.

Susan remembers this as one of the numerous summers they spent at Aunt Alberta's home.

She pulls out another photograph; the last one.

This is the one that truly breaks her heart.

Edmund is playing the piano in this picture. Peter and Lucy are both watching him with large beams on their faces so Susan assumes that one of her parents must've captured this picture.

What makes it so heart-breaking is the fact that she is not there.

Susan scours the photograph for any sight of her, and finds none.

Her eyes search desperately, and she recognizes herself in the shadows.

But it is not a Susan she knows.

This Susan is caked with makeup, and she carries a large purse. Her dress is strapless, and her hair is piled high. She has an expression of utter contempt on her face, and she is evidently simply passing by.

What a chance that she was in this photo.

Susan removes all four from the small box, and makes a firm resolution to frame them up later. All of them except the one with her in the shadows. Susan cannot bear to look at it again.

Susan reaches for another box. Lucy is written on top.

A box of Lucy's personal things.

Susan hesitates, but she rips the top off in a sudden motion.

It is an assortment of things, from broken toys to torn books. A small comb, and a box of coloring pencils. Some ribbon and a thin notebook. Susan slowly sifts through the things, and marvels at the pristine condition they are in. A pack of playing cards from years ago are still shiny and glossy. Even the coloring pencils are still sharp and unused.

Susan feels closer to Lucy than she ever had in years.

She reaches for a dried pinecone, and wonders briefly why on earth it is here.

Susan pulls out a small snow globe.

It is the snow globe she gave to her for Christmas when Susan was thirteen. She peers inside. A castle stands amidst the falling fake snow flakes.

Susan realizes that she only bought it because it bore some resemblance to a certain castle she was once so very happy in. She flings it away, gasping hard. It bounces harmlessly off the walls and rests somewhere behind all those boxes.

Susan sits there, panting.

Then she reaches for the slim notebook she had noticed earlier. She flips to the first page and realizes that the words inside are in Lucy's handwriting. Susan gulps, and reads the first scrawled sentence.

Dear Susan,

Please read this. I know you might want to throw this away now but I need you to read this. A few days ago, while Peter, Edmund, me, Professor Digory, Aunt Polly, Eustace and Jill were eating dinner, someone fell--

Lucy had clumsily crossed out that part and started on a new paragraph.

Dear Susan,

We need you to come over to Professor Digory's mansion now. We have something important to show you. Peter and Edmund found something that might bring us back to Nar--

Dear Susan,

I know that you still think that we're crazy but this discovery just might lead to something. We might even be able to see Aslan again--

Susan,

Please believe me. Narnia still exists--

Susan,

WHY WON'T YOU BELIVE ANYMORE? I HATE YOU! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO CHANGE? NOW I DON'T EVEN--

Dear Susan,

I love you. Please come back. I--

And it stopped right there.

Susan gapes at the page in shock. A drip of moisture falls on the page and Susan realizes it is her own tears. She doesn't bother to palm it away, instead she flips through the rest of the notebook desperately, but nothing else is written inside. She carefully puts the notebook back in the box.

Susan opens another box, and tries with all her might to not let another tear fall. This box isn't labeled at all. She opens it blindly, and comes face to face with all her cosmetics.

Susan wordlessly picks up a golden tube of lipstick, holding all her emotions in.

This accursed lipstick.

Susan places it back and picks up a bottle of perfume. It is made of crystal, and has many different facets. This one is an old-fashioned bottle, with a squeezer to eject perfume. The liquid within is a beautiful amber color, and it sparkles even in the dim lighting. She holds it in her palm and slowly stands up. The bottle's many facets reflect light, and Susan remembers thinking that this was the most glamorous bottle of perfume she had ever owned.

She has never seen anything so ugly.

Susan's breath comes faster, and her gaze is fixed on the crystalline bottle.

In a sudden motion that shocks even herself. She throws the bottle hard towards the opposite wall, screaming loudly. She screams, and her head pounds agonizingly. Her throat feels even sorer. The bottle smashes into a million fragments, and the wall is stained with perfume. It's sickly sweet smell permeates the air, and Susan stomach turns.

She lets out another primal scream.

Her mind swirls, but she doesn't stop screaming.

Her voice bounces off the restricting walls of the room, and it hurts her own ears.

She feels more and more light-headed.

She releases all her pent-up emotions into that scream: anger, hate, regret, pain, loss, love, jealousy, fear, angerhateregretpainlosslovejealousyfear…

When she is done screaming, her head throbs so hard her whole body seems to shake along. Her eyes blink, and she clutches her head woozily, vision flickering.

She falls to the floor, and her vision goes black.

The bottle shards litter the ground, but Susan does not feel the pain as they pierce her skin. All she knows is the comfortable darkness.

And she drifts away.