Author note: A good friend of mine lost her husband a few years ago to an accidental overdose, and her story still brings tears to my eyes to this day. Honestly, I never thought one person could possibly be able to make it this far after such a horrible story. Luckily, she's a strong girl, and still young. I wrote this story thinking about her.

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The bunkroom was empty - not a soul around to disturb the deathly silence. Everyone was gone - everyone but me. I was the only one occupying the small bunkroom that smelt of cigars and soap. I loved that smell. It was a small room, but the boys called it home. The girl's room was much larger, but I preferred to be here. He used to live here.

I couldn't even find the strength to wipe away the tears that wandered down my face. It was dark, and not even the moonlight was enough to lighten my spirit. I was afraid to close my eyes, because if I did I'd see him. His face was haunting me. Even lying, snuggled in his favorite blue shirt, curled up on his bed, couldn't make me the least bit happy. I didn't want to leave, however, because if I did I'd be leaving behind the only memory left of him.

Brooklyn. I hated Brooklyn. I wished I had never come to New York let alone this dreaded place called Brooklyn. Maybe, just maybe, if we had never met, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe, just maybe, if we hadn't of locked eyes, my heart wouldn't be breaking into a million little pieces that glue couldn't even fix. He was my world - everything that made me, me. He taught me how to smile, and he found my faith.

I clenched my jaw and wrapped my arms around myself, as if I could keep myself from falling apart again. His scent lingered around me, and just one whiff of it made me dizzy. God how I loved his scent. I could hear his laughing echoing off the walls. Sometimes it was an alien sound, but when I was blessed with it, I cherished it. And his eyes - oh, those eyes that made me wonder. What could he possibly be hiding behind those magnificent gray pools?

I bit my lip hard, choking on a sob that I dared to let escape. I couldn't do this again, once was enough. I wouldn't let myself breakdown - he wouldn't want that. A few more tears escaped my eyes, another reminder that he was gone. I was acting so childish, as if I had lost a puppy. But this was much more.

I had to shut the world away, for my own sanity. I needed him here with me, to repair my swollen heart. I needed to feel his rough hands entwined with mine. I could even recall the last thing he said to me…

"Even the greatest must fall, Izzy."

And he walked away. He walked into the streets of Brooklyn and didn't even turn back. He didn't look into my eyes and say, "I love you." He didn't brush my hair out of my face and grant me with butterfly kisses. No, Spot Conlon wasn't that kind of man. A man he was, but he refused to be a romantic man.

He did love me, though, and even if he hardly said it, I knew he felt it. He was faithful, as well. He saw nobody but me. Sure, there were girls out there that hated me, but they would never have what Spot and I had. They would never understand the pain of losing someone you loved. Someone you truly loved.

I never believed in love. To me, love was just a stupid four letter word that the youth overused. It had no value to me. I don't think he even cared much for it, either. To him, love meant Brooklyn. He never cared about getting married in the future, just so long as he had Brooklyn. I wish I had never changed his mind, now.

I tightly closed my eyes and his face flashed in my mind. I let out a small moan, biting my lip even harder, and clenching my fists into the sheets. I had to stay strong. I didn't want to breakdown again. I wanted to numb the pain that seemed to increase within me. Without him here, I was lost; broken.

It had just been yesterday when I got the news. Spot had left with Embry, a good friend, and leader of Bronx. They had to take care of some business dealing with a turf war that Queens wanted to start. Spot didn't seem phased by this, and decided to take the situation into his own hands. He and Embry set off to have a final talk with Queens.

"Even the greatest must fall, Izzy."

I didn't know what it meant at the time. I didn't even let his words sink in, until now. If I had known that he didn't plan on returning then I would have spilled my guts out to him right there in the streets. If I had known that his visit to Queens would be his death, then I would have demanded him to stay. Threatened him! I would have hit him in the head with a metal bar, anything to keep him in Brooklyn!

Instead, I said nothing. I was too angry that he was leaving. I couldn't even bring up enough courage to say, "Be careful," because of the pride he thrust in me. Now, lying here, without him, I hated myself more than ever. I felt disgusted with who I was.

Ray was the one to announce the terrible news. It was raining, but that didn't keep me from waiting for Spot's return. I missed him - a whole week without his presence…I never would have dreamed it would turn into a lifetime. Ray was running, almost tripping over his own feet as he approached us. We were all anxious to hear what Spot and Embry did to the Queens newsies. Most of all, I wanted to know that he was okay.

Ray stopped in front of us and doubled over, trying to catch his breath. Nobody could tell that he was crying because of the rain. However, I could already tell that something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"Well?" Fig was almost as eager as I was.

"He's dead!" Ray exclaimed hysterically.

Everyone looked puzzled, but my heart immediately stopped. Oh please, God! I thought to myself.

"Ash? Ash is dead?" Fig wanted to be sure that Ray was referring to the Queens leader.

"No!" Ray sobbed. "No, not Ash." His voice seemed to lower, and my heart caught in my throat. "They ambushed them! Spot…he's…he's…Embry was the only one that survived."

I suddenly clasped my hand over my mouth, and I felt my stomach rise in my throat. I wanted to be sick. I was dreaming - I had to be! This couldn't be true. This wasn't true!

"They…they killed Spot!" Ray yelled.

Thunder clacked above our heads, but nobody moved. I could feel the tears burning in my eyes, and suddenly I let out a loud scream. Everything became blurry as I dropped to my knees, almost in slow motion. People dropped their heads, or lost their balance and collapsed to the ground as well.

I leaned over and wrapped my arms around myself, ignoring the rain that soaked my hair, shirt and trousers. A nightmare…that was all this was. Just a simple, sick nightmare. Spot was immortal, how could he die?

I couldn't help but scream. I could feel eyes on me as I lied completely on the ground, covered in mud. I was hysterical. I felt dizzy and sick. I wanted to throw up. This couldn't be happening, not to me. Apparently, hours passed as I lied, helpless, in the mud. And here I am now, clean, dry and still heartbroken.

He took away everything. I wanted to hurt him for getting himself killed. I wanted to bring him back, just so I could kill him again! He could have told me he suspected something. He could have kissed me lovingly, for all of the wandering eyes to see him expressing how he truly felt. But no; all he did was say a stupid little line.

"Even the greatest must fall, Izzy."