-1It felt cool there. She felt warm inside, more welcome and happy then she had been in a long time. She liked it here. Loved it here. She wanted to be here FOREVER.

But where was she?

She opened her eyes, and saw nothing. Well, not at first.

After a moment, and a few blinks, her eyes began to focus on a room that she had never been in before. And someone was watching her…

It was… no, it couldn't be. George? No, she could always tell them apart. Even though it was apparently an odd and rare talent, she could always tell.

This was Fred.

After 5 years, this was Fred. Standing right before her, smiling, eyes sad.

"Hello Angelina," he said.

"Fred? How? You were-" she felt something clog her throat. A lump that had risen.

"Yes. I still am, unfortunately."

"then how-"

"You are too."

"What happened?" "You had some kind of heartbreak that overcame you. To a cross of a mental and heart attack. You're dead now, Angie."

She didn't believe it.

After she had been waiting for this moment for 5 years, it was finally here!!! She was DEAD! And Fred was here, too, best of all.

"Yesss!" She practically shouted. "you want to be dead?" he asked, sounding confused.

"Yes, of course, now I'm with you. Now people don't have to worry about me and watch me closely. I can't feel pain any more. All the stress, worry, heartbreak, gone. And I'm with you. You have no idea how it hurt to be away from you so long. All I've wanted since you died was…to be with you."

She felt herself tearing up, but didn't care. She ran up and threw her arms around him, swearing to herself that she'd never let go.

"I'm glad to see you too, but you have to go back." "I don't want too, and-wait? I have an option?"

"You're not fully dead. You could go back. Or stay with me, have depressed family and friends. A world without you too."

"The world doesn't need me. But I need you," she said, finally breaking down in tears. He closed his arms around her and held her tightly, and she could tell he never wanted to let her go.

But he did, of course.

A door appeared a few feet away, and he told her "go through it. We'll be together some day, when you're ready to die. But you dieing at the young age of 24 isn't going to make you or me feel better. Go, please."

She saw the look he was giving her. She though when they were together again, he would be happy to see her. Instead he acted as if he wanted her to go away.

He did. For her better.

So she turned and looked at the door, standing stiller than a statue.

She knew at that moment where she belonged.