READ PLEASE!!!! (Everyone falls over) She UPDATED twice in one DAY! Oh my god! Call the head lines!… I know… I know… what the hell am I taking to put up TWO updates in one day. A lot, let me tell you. This chapter is, in my humble opinion, the most emotional escapade of a chapter. It's def not as long as the others are, but the emotional energy is def higher. I tried to write more words rather then blunt statements. But of course my blunt statements are in the story. If you are not crying by the end of this, at least slightly tearing up… I give up (that's such a lie it's not funny). This is in NO WAY the last chapter. No… not at all. It is simply a transition chapter. A pretty damn good transition chapter… but a transition chapter none the less. Next chapter will be more centered on the ailment (illness). It should be out by Wednesday and/or Thursday. DEF review for this chapter. PLEASE review for this chapter I want as much humanly feedback as possible. I won't pull a "I want ten review to update" thing, but I'm begging you PLEASE review this chapter. I hope you enjoy ((The poem that's in there somewhere (it's the summary) is my own poem or at least a verse from one of my poems.)) Thanks!!

(The hardest thing to do is let go. It's not the first meeting or the first hello. It's not the first I love you and not the first hug. It's being, at the end of the day, able to let go.)

It had rained all morning. It had finally stopped before the service, leaving the sky gray and dreary. It was simply breath taking in my opinion. The scents of rain clouded over my mind delaying reality from taking over. It's amazing how the simplest of details, like the scent of rain, can mean so much in ten years from now. Ten years almost seems forever and a day away. It's not, however.

My hair, straight and smooth, blew against the breeze that had formed during the rain. I was wearing black pants, a black turtleneck, black boots, and her white petty coat. It had been a gift from our grandfather when she was sixteen. It went to her knees and sparkled ever so slightly in the sun. It was somewhat big on me, falling to my knees but flaring around my waist. It fitted her to a "T" when she had gotten it. I had left it open because I wasn't cold. I had my black gloves on and a pair of silver earrings. I was the only person wearing anything white. She wouldn't have had it any other way.

I felt something slip into my hand. I looked down to see a gloved hand holding my hand gently. I looked up and looked at the bottomless big green eyes of the obsession. He was wearing a black suit with a black over coat. He had on a white shirt but it was barely visible under his heavy jacket and wool scarf. His hair was combed back and yet it still seemed untamed. I felt myself lean in closer to him.

I allowed my eyes to move around staring at the familiar and the nameless faces. My eyes landed on Phoebe who stood on the other side of the coffin. She was in a black dress with a black jacket. Gerald's arm was protectively around her shoulders. Our eyes met and I could tell she had been crying. I'm not sure if she was mad at me for not telling her or mad at the world for making me not want to tell her. Either way I hope she was mad at me, that she secretly planned to kill me when this was all over. She wouldn't kill me herself. Maybe hire someone.

A hitman is top of my list, I could hear her think. We have ESP.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. For a split second I hoped with all my heart it was Bob. That he would have his gruff smile on his face and an arm wrapped around Miriam. She would have her hand in mine and an arm around Olga, who was smiling her abrasive (yet perfect) smile. I hoped that I would see a family.

I gave a sad smile to Miles who was looking at me with compassion in his eyes. They had let me stay at the boarding house while Miriam and Bob made plans for the funeral. Trust me, Miriam and Bob would not have had time to deal with me. I needed someone to deal with me. I needed to be reminded I was still alive. Not that I wanted to be alive. But I needed to be reminded.

I noticed Stella standing next to my mother, an arm around her shoulder, whispering calm words to her. Miriam wasn't sure who Stella was, but she wasn't about to turn her away. Miriam needed someone. Bob was standing on the opposite side of the coffin. His arm was around Cynthia who was holding their two-year-old son, Robert. They were clad in black. I felt that there was false mourning among Cynthia and Bob. Or maybe just Cynthia. But I felt the need to go over and hurt her. I wanted to make her feel as bad as I did. How dare anyone come here and not mourn sincerely.

I closed my eyes and reopened them as they began lowering the coffin. I could feel the tears rolling down my face as I watched everyone bow their heads as the priest said a closing prayer.

I was the only one who had not bowed their heads. I stand by my assumption she wouldn't have had it any other way.

As I watched them lower the casket I thought of a movie I had once seen. I couldn't remember the title or even the actors who were in it. Just one of the ending scenes. The main character, Frank, maybe that was his name, he was standing as they slowly lowered his wife's coffin into the hole. They had been in love for only a few months but they were in love. He flew at her coffin and held it. They had to stop lowering it. He was crying hysterically screaming at the top of his lungs she wasn't gone, she was still alive. He swore he couldn't live with out her. I think her name was Amber or Ember, it was pretty, but it doesn't matter. It took four grown men (one his father and another his father in law) to pull him off of the coffin. His father then swept him into a large hug and let him sob into his Prada, twenty thousand-dollar jacket. I felt this was real love. On both Frank's part and his father's part.

I felt a gentle squeeze on my hand. I didn't look up at him but simply squeezed back. If I were to fly at the casket it would probably take either Arnold or Gerald to pry me off. Of course if I flew at the casket I might be shot at on cue. I never trusted Bob to handle arrangements. He has a violent side about him.

I wanted to fall apart. Right here, right now, at my sister's funeral, in front of almost ever living citizen of the city. Of course this is premature and ridiculous. So of course my next notion was how I wanted everyone to leave so I could have a break down, right here, right now.

It wasn't longer before people began to dispatch. They would all be going to Bob's manor on the Upper East Side of the city. There would be food. Phoebe motioned she would see me there and Miriam told me that Miles and Stella would be taking her.

It took ten minutes for everyone to get into their cars and begin the twenty-minute drive to Bob's house. There was a lone limo waiting for me about thirty feet from her grave. It was just her, Arnold, and me.

I gently let go of his hand and walked over to the open hole. Her ivory casket looked shiny and untouched as it lay in the six-foot hole. I imagined her wearing the blue dress Bob had bought her. How she looked like a porcelain doll at the wake yesterday. How she looked almost alive with the soft smile on her face and the flower in her hands. I was losing composure quickly.

I gently kneeled down and looked at her head stone.

Olga Pataki, loving daughter, sister, and woman. She shall remain forever in our hearts. Her birthday and death day was engraved delicately into the marble headpiece.

I looked down at the casket, wiping tears from my cold face. I had so much to say so much to just tell her. This would have ruined the moment I thought.

"I'm so sorry." I heard my voice through the bitterness of winter. "I wish I had been there. I wish I could have made you feel better. I wish you hadn't died." A sob escaped my lips. I wanted to stand up and turn away. But I couldn't. "I miss you so much. I know I never said it, and I was such a brat, but I love you. I always have, big sister."

Sobs took over my entire body. I never realized what she meant to me. I never realized how much a person she had been to me. Had I known I would have said it sooner. I would have done something. I wanted to tell her that I would always be here for her. To wait for me, I was coming soon. I wanted to tell her that I would take care of mom for her and that I make sure dad ate healthy more often. I wanted to fall into the hole and lye next to her. I wanted to be with her, wherever she was.

I felt a pair of strong arms pull me up and then pull me towards him. I sobbed into his jacket. The material was somewhat scratchy. I didn't care.

I wanted to be with her. I didn't want her to be with me; she was in a better place now. I would never want her to return to this world, not when she is tasting paradise. She deserves paradise.

I didn't want to leave her here alone. In a graveyard under a weeping willow. How befitting I thought. Someone to always weep for her. Maybe I should trust Bob with the arrangements.

Nothing will have ever been too good for her.

(She looked at me with her cat like eyes and a drag of her cigarette and motioned with her hand around the room. "This is as good as it gets baby.")

I sat at the pier staring into the half-frozen water. The reception, if you will, was stuffy and made me yearn to die faster. I had only stayed for an hour or so. Arnold had insisted that I hang out with him but I needed to be by myself. I wanted to be by myself.

I had gone home and changed into a pair of jeans and a thin long sleeved shirt. My hair was still down and blew in the chilling breeze. I was comfortable like this. Just being myself.

I moved my eyes around the pier. There wasn't a soul in sight. That's why it had been so quiet. That's why I could here the water whispering chants of loneliness to the sky.

I watched as the water moved. I wasn't sure how or why it was moving, but it was. I wish I were moving or feeling. I wish I could just pretend to be human. Just for a moment.

My lips curled as I thought of a poem I had written a few years ago. I tried to continue writing but as my life grew dark so did my writings. Finally it was all about self hate and death and I had to place down the pen and pick up my camera.

I slowly began reciting the short poem as I stared into the crystal waters. "When the final curtain falls; watch it fall, watch it fall; they'll think you hadn't been there; that you hadn't been there at all; and you'll laugh, yes you'll laugh; as you bang your head against the wall."

It had absolutely nothing to do with the water or the pier. But it seemed significant, like a prayer, a lullaby even. I felt tears well up in my eyes.

What was left for me here?

I could almost see her on the water, laughing as she danced graceful on the surface of the lake. She was so beautiful. They said, at the reception (if you will), that I looked like her. I don't understand how this could be. Granted, granted, I had some where along the line changed in my appearance. I'll go, as far as, to say I might be even pretty. But I did not look like Olga. She was poised and beautiful. I am pale and thin. I look sickly and weak. She was Ms. Sunshine. Olga was the epitome of beauty. I do not look like Olga. This is an insult to her. And Bob as well, because he boldly told whoever had said it that no one, no one, looks like Olga.

I truly hope he burns in hell.

I sighed. She was never coming back. Ever. She was now a memory in my chaotic head. I wondered how long she would survive there. Inside my head. I hope longer then I'm giving her memory credit for. She's not the Barbwire Ballerina. She fell. She fell. She had never been immortal in my mind. Maybe she should have been.

I drew my knees to my chest as the tears began falling down my face. Maybe this is how it was suppose to end. I had been standing still for so long, watching everyone walk by. Maybe this is my light at the end of the tunnel.

I had finally lost it I thought. Or maybe I never had it I contradicted myself. I wanted to surrender. To anything, something, just to get it over with. I was too far down to think of anything other then what I had lost. In my mind there was no longer Miriam, Bob, Phoebe, Gerald, or even Arnold. All that was left was Olga. Who no matter what, deep down, loved me for everything I was and thought of me as worth something. I was too far into the dark to see the good light.

I wanted freedom. I had been a prisoner in my mind for too long. Now that she was free. I could be free.

I looked at the water as it moved in tiny waves. I stood up and dusted off my jeans. I moved closer to the edge of the pier, raising my arms above my head.

Did you know that they (who ever they are) call suicide a dark salvation?

It's almost ironic.

The cold water hit my face and ran through my hair. It slid over my body as I swam towards the bottom. I no longer felt numb. I felt reborn, almost alive. I could feel again. I felt like a real person. Some one who could feel, love, hate, anything, and everything. I was a real person. I wasn't standing still anymore. I was free.

Then, like a dream, I felt myself being pulled up. I felt my body move to the top of the water. I was being pulled to the shoreline at the bottom of the pier.

"What the hell are you thinking?" I heard a voice screaming at me. Maybe it wasn't screaming. Maybe it only sounded like screaming.

The cold air hit my body harshly as I began to shiver. He gently picked me up and half ran back on to the pier wear his jacket, suit jacket, and shoes laid quietly. He placed me down and wrapped the suit jacket and then his regular jacket around me.

"Are you out of you mind?" I stared at him. Those big green eyes were filled with tears. He looked as if he was about to begin sobbing an ocean of tears. "Do you know what you were doing? Do you know what could have happened to you?"

I reached out gently and touched his face. He was soaking wet but he didn't care. He was too busy scolding me. His hair was extremely soft. He felt like home. At least what home should have felt like.

However the darkness began clouding over my mind again. I no longer felt like home. I felt angry. I looked at him and in a fury began hitting his chest. I began crying as I did it. Sobbing every time my hand hit him. It wasn't hurting him because he seemed more confused then in pain.

"Why?" I shouted, hitting him as I sobbed into unknown territory. I was too close to have lost it. I was almost free. "Why couldn't you just let me stay there? Why did you have to safe me? Why do you always have to safe me? I wanted to die! I want to die! I want to be free. Let me be free." I stopped hitting him and brought my hands up to my face.

His arms wrapped around me. I sobbed in to my hands.

"Let me be free. I need to be free." I was shaking with sobs. He didn't care. His grip on me only tightened. "Why? Why?"

He pulled me away from him and gently moved my hands from my face. "You'll never be free like that." He said. "Never."

I began crying harder. "I want it to end. Please make it end. Please." I grabbed on to his shirt. It was wet. I was pleading with him. Begging him to safe me.

"I wish I could." This made me sob harder.

I wanted to free. I wanted to be with her. She had no right to leave me here alone.

"You're not alone." I heard him say, I realized I was no longer thinking, I was talking. I was talking to him.

"I am alone." I sobbed, burying my face into his shirt.

"Helga!" He pulled me away roughly and stared at him. He was crying too. He had been crying with me all along. "You are not alone. I'm here for you. I'm not leaving you."

"I'm leaving you!" I screamed. My throat began to ache from the crying and the screaming and the various words that were pouring from my lips. "I'm leaving you! I'm dying! Just like her! I'm sick!" I kept shouting until it all formed into a sea of sobs.

"What?" I looked at him, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I'm dying." I said, calmer. "Just like her."

This intensified the stream of tears rolling down his face.

"You don't know that." I looked at him as I froze. I gently moved my face closer to his and kissed him. It was gentle, tender almost. He returned it with a hard passion.

As I pulled away I looked in his deep green eyes. I believe he began crying harder.

"I do know that." I said. I then leaned my head against his chest as I felt him continue to cry. I was numb again. I just wanted to be free.

I just wanted my dark salvation.