A low rumble, a whistling wind as it swirled between the perfectly spaced trees, their leaves swaying as if to an unheard tune. Posters perilously hung on brick walls with cheap adhesive catching in the draft, their corners peeling away before it was ensnared in the breeze, flying into the bleak grey sky.

I didn't look at the posters however. I didn't watch as they began to scatter across the empty streets. I didn't even try to stop as my hair curled in the air, feeling the cold nip the now exposed skin of my neck.

I just looked at Scott, looked at those eyes which seemed to cause so much trouble. For a small sliver of a second, it seemed I was able to read them, before that itself was carried off into the circling storm winds. All that was left was clouded by the confusion of the question.

"Yeah..." I found myself struggling to answer the question, fearful of why he asked it, and what it might lead to. I shook my head, feeling as if the words themselves were scared of coming forward, "Your Dad would, Charlie and Lillian would... I would..."

I wasn't sure about Charlie and Lillian anymore, but the kindness he had shown towards them would definitely not be forgotten. Even after what I had told them, Scott had saved Lillian's life, in of itself risking his own. They were forever thankful for that, however much they may not trust him.

"Charlie and Lillian hardly know me," Even the way Scott spoke, he seemed tired. Not just physically, but mentally drained. Every word seemed to be a struggle, and I couldn't help but feel a deep empathy. With another drawn-out sigh he continued, "My Dad would move on. My mother wouldn't care. I could just vanish, and be no more than a passing thought, to most, not even that..."

"I would miss you," hearing my own voice, I felt stronger, and I couldn't help but move forward and grab his hands. I pulled him closer, as if afraid that when I let go, he would simply disappear among the floating papers, his voice nothing more than a memory, "Scott, why are you saying this?"

"Rebecca..." he said my name slowly and delicately, but gently, as if the word itself was a delicate object. Looking into those unreadable eyes, I couldn't help but feel nervous. I was scared, truly scared of what he would say. There was a silence as he closed his eyes, thinking, before looking back up at me, "Would you be happy spending the rest of your life with Jake?"

What was he asking? And more importantly, where was this coming from?

"Why?" I squeezed his hands tightly, fearful no longer of his words, but of what he wasn't saying. The secrets, worries, and thoughts which drifted in his mind. When he blinked, it felt slower, as if time itself had been drawn back before freezing.

"If I disappear..." he began to speak, and as he said those words, I felt my whole body tense up. It was exactly what I didn't want him to say. I felt sick, scared, a deep pit in my stomach. I felt angry as well, angry at the very idea that he thought this would be better.

But most of all, I thought of Marie.

"Don't..." my voice was stern, and when I spoke, it felt as though I was going to cry. Although I was holding his hands, I knew I was trembling. I shook my head, "Please... don't even finish that sentence. You can't disappear on me... not ever. I don't want to have to pretend I never met you, Scott,"

When Marie had first disappeared, I didn't know what it meant. At first, I thought that perhaps it meant she was lost and would return, or she simply hadn't registered it properly. Secondly, when I finally understood the perpetuity of it all, it seemed like time was standing still. A numbness to the surrounding world.

At first, I couldn't accept it, wouldn't accept it. It was as though the world itself would just return to normal any second, simply a bad dream. Waking up from a nightmare. But there's nothing more terrifying then finally accepting that you can never go backward, and that you can't just wake up.

But when it finally did feel real, all I felt was anger. I wanted to scream, throw things around. I was angry at the system, at the school, at the people around me. At the therapist who would keep asking me questions. I felt so angry not just with others, but with myself.

Was there anything I could have done?

I wanted to go back, simply reverse the irreversible and change things. Hold onto Marie and never let her go. I wanted to do so many things, change all the things I said. I wished for one more chance, a final chance to set things right. To say the things I never got to say.

But that chance never came.

For years, I couldn't stand people. I felt annoyed, and to this day, can't help the irritation I get towards others. That they don't feel what I feel, that they don't see what this has done to me. I felt as though I was so alone, that nothing could fix it.

Up until March 3rd, I spent my time reading. Every day after school I would go to the library, occasionally help out with sorting, before sitting by myself and reading. For those hours until the sun went down, I could become someone else. I was no longer Rebecca Aria, but whatever character I wanted to be.

I expected the assignments to change things. That March 3rd, the old lonely Rebecca Aria would die. That I wouldn't feel this deep dark crawling feeling. That I would find love, have somebody who I could rely on just as I did for her. I expected all those problems to disappear.

But it didn't.

It was so much more complicated than that. So much more complicated than one date that could change everything. But, in some way, it also did. I had changed a lot in the past few weeks, so much so that I felt as though I didn't even recognize myself. But in truth, for all the wrong reasons.

In a new way, I was no longer alone.

I always had Charlie and Lillian, but they felt like a completely different part of my life. I had been so lonely, and for the first week after assignment, everything began to crumble. A cookie-cutter boy, a job I hated, and a co-worker who seemed to hate me.

But life isn't black and white.

And, in a strange twist of fate, I wasn't alone anymore. I was standing, holding hands with someone who didn't hate me; who had also seemed to change so much. I didn't just feel a sense of connection, but with Scott Preston, I felt alive again. I felt as I did before Marie disappeared. But this time, it just felt so much different.

And I couldn't just let him leave me like that.

I didn't know when I had started crying, but I managed to feel a tear slowly fall down my cheek. My vision became blurry, but I didn't move my hands, not wanting him to leave me like that. I couldn't, wouldn't, let him disappear.

"You're too important to me," I said, struggling to hold my words with the same confidence as I did before. There was another rumble, a deep roar that seemed to surround me with a sense of dread. I shook my head, "It doesn't matter what you do just-... don't disappear. Don't do that to me... I hardly know you but you make me feel so alive. And I can't just... you can't just fade away. Please just... promise me that..."

I didn't care anymore about trust or distrust. I didn't care whether Scott scared me or not. I didn't even care about the switching. But I did care about Scott. To a point where the very thought of letting go of his hands right now made that dark hole in my heart grow.

The wind was picking up, a dark grey now looming over the area. The thunder seemed to be growing louder, and in the distance, I could see small flashes of light. But I couldn't take my eyes away from Scott Preston, couldn't look anyway except at him.

"I promise," Scott said, and the phrase in itself was more of a relief than anything. I let out a breath, feeling a deep relief wash over me as the weight on my chest lifted. He looked slightly down at me, with his usual deep intensity. His gaze, although terrifying, had become almost addicting in a sense, "As long as you promise the same,"

"I promise..." my words were shaky, but at least I had stopped crying. I finally felt as though I could let go of his hands, and when I did, the world seemed to return to its pace. In the distance, I heard a squawk. A raven had perched itself on a small ledge.

It squawked again, and when I looked at it, I almost thought for a moment that it was watching me, it's beady eyes transfixed on me. As if it knew every thought in my head, could read every idea which floated in my mind. When I looked at Scott, I saw he was watching it too.

"I always liked birds," he said quietly, watching as the bird buried its head under its wing. It picked at it, before a black feather drifted to the ground slowly. Scott turned to me, a small smile, "Raven's were always my favorite,"

There was another cry from the bird, but this time, it seemed to go deeper, a dark and foreboding song. As if it had heard what Scott said and was responding. It was drawn out, almost as if it itself was the thunder. Then, it flew away, carrying itself into the grey sky, it's wings spreading apart to showcase it's dark silhouette.

And then, it began to rain.