Josh laid in his cold bed without covers, staring up at a moving, dark ceiling. His eyes wandered over the cracks where the drafts came through, yet he was not cold. He felt very little. Life imprisonment without possibility had numbed him and cut off any signal from his central nervous system. He might have been lying there for hours, unmoving, stagnant; or it may have been minutes. Somewhere inbetween, it had gone from light to dark.

He blinked, but only once.

"Why me, Josh?"

He knew they would come. One-by-one they appeared, darker than the darkness, a slow-to-form glow eventually emanating from their phantoms. He had no desire to answer their questions. No desire to continue on with much of anything, let alone a morbid game designed with him as the loser. He held no cards. They had all the pieces. Check.

The only one Josh had not expected was her. After a long silence, he could smell her, feel her next to him, standing in the cell door with the bars visible through her translucent form. She looked at him like she had very long ago: with some sadness and wistfulness. But no shame. Never ashamed of him.

Hello, there
The angel from my nightmare
The shadow in the background of the morgue
The unsuspecting victim
Of darkness in the valley
We can live like Jack and Sally if we want

"Emily," he whispered. Her eyes glittered, but were not alive. She seemed to sigh softly at her name, then pursed her pale lips together in what might have been a smile.

Where you can always find me
And we'll have Halloween on Christmas
And in the night, we'll wish this never ends
We'll wish this never ends

He saw her looking at the Polaroid of him next to his eight-point buck. His fingers around the antlers, blood staining his fatigues where he had kneeled next to the dying creature and tried to put back the insides and take out the bullet. That was where he had first learned to make his face a mask and wall up the heart nobody knew. He saw her smile at him, tell him how great it was. He could hear her voice asking him all about it, and in the end, she was the only one who believed any of it was real.

I miss you

She glowed brighter than the rest.

I miss you

Almost blinding.

Where are you?
And I'm so sorry
I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight
I need somebody and always
This sick, strange darkness

Comes creeping on so haunting every time

Just before he had gone into the cafeteria that morning, Josh remembered hearing Michael asking her where he was. He could see her shrug, see her long blonde hair tremble on her shoulders, see her look around for him. In ninth grade, she had been the only one who had sat with him. He swore that she saw him that morning with the rifle. For a moment, he had held his breath, thinking that she would come for him. But she said nothing. Her eyes just continued to scan the area until she turned and told Michael that she had not seen him all day, and guessed he was at home.

And as I stared, I counted
Webs from all the spiders
Trapping things and eating their insides

Michael had been sitting next to Katie. Katie, his girl. The one who had left him over a stupid broken date. They could have gone to the movies another weekend. She could have given him one more chance. Instead she snuck around with Michael, his friend, his fellow football player, and in his anger he had pushed him. Michael was much larger and had pushed him back, sending him sprawling across the floor. Voices had laughed. In his head they were all laughing. Around him, he was sure of it, they had laughed. Except for Emily.

Like indecision to call you

And hear your voice of treason
Will you come home and stop this pain tonight?

She had dropped her things to help him up, and he had wrenched away from her, disgusted with himself but blaming it on her. He told her he did not need a girl's help. He could fight his own battles. That should have angered her, but she only lifted her books from the floor and smiled sadly and said she was sorry about Katie. Then she left, only to call him that night and make sure he was okay. He had hung up on her after a few curt answers. He remembered she never was angry with him for it. She just sat with him the next day in total silence.

After a few minutes, he had glared at her. "Aren't you going to talk?"

She smiled and leaned her chin on her hand. "No." Then she slid her tray to him. "Do you want my cookies?"

He had smiled.

Please, stop this pain tonight

He had done her wrong in so many ways. Now there she was in a more incorporeal form, just looking at him, not asking anything of him because she never had.

Don't waste your time on me
You're already the voice inside my head
I miss you
Don't waste your time on me
You're already the voice inside my head
I miss you

Josh could remember all the way back to when they were eleven and he allowed her to play war with him and the other boys. He had liked how she died.

Emily took his hand and led him from his cot to the middle of his cell where the moon still cast a pale beam onto the floor. Her eyes were so blue. He stared into them, wishing that he could make them shimmer again, make them laugh as she had laughed, her head turned away, right before he blew a hole through Michael's neck. The second shot hit Katie in the chest, right under the shoulder like he had shot the buck. That was when she had turned, whipping around, hair in her face, suddenly alarmed. A girl started to get up and run. He shot her through the stomach. Her friend went to her aid and then slammed into the tile as one of Josh's bullets ripped into his skull.

When he turned, she was coming toward him. Trying to stop him. Looking into her eyes now, he knew she had been trying to save him as she always had. But he shot her through the heart, and she tripped and he caught her despite himself, dropping the rifle. She looked up at him, and their eyes met.

Don't waste your time on me
You're already the voice inside my head
I miss you

Now he was holding her again like that, like in the cafeteria, a painful silence as her eyes faded to gray and her expression of confusion lapsed into nothingness. He helped her to the floor, awkwardly like he had that day, and cried out at the blood on his shirt. Her blood. Thick, red blood. Her life staining him, seeping into his body, into his soul, his mind.

He cried over her body. He did not care that she was not there.

Don't waste your time on me
You're already the voice inside my head
I miss you
Don't waste your time on me
You're already the voice inside my head
I miss you...