A.N. Damn. I thought I'd never get to finishing this. We started homeschooling and dance was absolutely crazy… buuuuut it's summer now! Highfives!

Well. I actually held my breath writing the first section of this. I now know what authors mean when they say they're connected with their characters. Oh wait.

ELLIE'S NOT MINE. Just saying, you know. She's like… Canada's. Yeah.

Ellie didn't even remember closing her eyes.

All she remembered was giving Marco a smile; one she hoped would reassure him. He'd looked so worried, so tired. She didn't want him to worry about her. She'd felt fine, other than a dull ringing in her ears… and maybe a throb or two somewhere else, but she'd felt worse than that before.

Now she felt nothing. She felt blank. Vacant. Like sleep without dreams. Her mind felt numb. She felt… in fact, she wasn't even sure she was feeling. Whatever kind of trance she was in, she had to wake up soon. Marco and Paige would be worrying about her.

She attempted to force her mind into motion again, to make herself feel something. Anything. But try as she might, the vacant feeling never left. She tried to speak, but her lips wouldn't move. It was as if they'd been sealed with cement.

She began to panic, willing her body to move, willing her mind to thaw out from this terrible state. Maybe this was all a nightmare. Maybe she would wake up soon, snuggled into Marco's warm shoulder, taking the scent she knew so well…

In her alarm, Ellie noticed something missing. Something was gone. She experienced that awful frustration you get when you can't figure something out until it hit her like a bag of bricks.

Her heartbeat. She couldn't hear it. She couldn't feel it.

Her heart had stopped.

Before she knew it, Ellie was screaming. Her throat was going numb from the force of it. She could feel her fists clenched, her legs cramping, her eyes squeezed shut.

She stopped abruptly, her eyes snapping open. She could move. She could feel. Relief flooded through her body, reaching to the very ends of her fingertips. She couldn't enjoy it for long, though, because that one thing was still absent. The steady bump-bump of her heart.

Her eyes adjusted to the bright light that met them and Ellie was slightly startled to see where she stood. It was a familiar room, with a faint light coming from a lamp and a silver glow peeking through the blinds. A sigh behind her made her jump. She turned slowly to see Marco sitting on his bed, gently placing his cell phone on his knee, bringing a hand to his face. His shoulders were hunched, his hair was a mess, and his face was a sight that made Ellie's nonexistent heartbeat stop.

"Marco," she called quietly, her gaze fixed on his grief-stricken face. He didn't move. "Marco!" she repeated, taking a step forward. The boy still didn't budge, leaning backwards on a mountain of pillows. There were dark circles underneath his brown eyes, the ones she knew he got only when he was losing sleep.

Ellie quickly made her way forward to take a seat on the bed. She felt it underneath her, but it didn't move; the quilt didn't crease under her weight, and the frame didn't squeak as she sat. She began to panic again, looking worriedly at her best friend. He'd switched off the lamp at his bedside, but she could still see his face in the light of the moon.

"Marco!" she screamed, slamming a fist down on the bed. Nothing moved. This only frustrated her more, so that tears burned behind her eyes. She felt them run down her cheeks, and watched them fall into her lap; they were silvery grey, and as soon as they hit her legs, they disappeared.

"Marco, it's me!" she continued, fumbling as she tried to scoot closer to him. "It's Ellie!" More matter-less tears made their way down her cheeks. "Please!"

Her sobs were so loud in her own ears. If her heart was still there, it was breaking.

She simply lay there beside him until her sobs subsided into feeble hiccups. Her thin red hair was sticking to her face, but she didn't bother to rub it away. It wouldn't matter.

She was dead.

Whew. I bet you're crying. Eh?

Geez so angsty. I normally don't go for angst that much, but when people die, it is desperately needed. I was so tempted to go for the "Dude, I just had the weirdest dream…" thing, but I'll kill anyone who ends a story like that, so. Yeah.

Should this be the end? I hate sad endings, but a funeral scene sounds nice. Meh. I'll sleep on it. It's 12:06. In the morning.