AN:

This is how I get over writer block, yes hate me, I started another one. I will finish Her Second Chance though. Expect an update on that soon.

I know, horrible title, any suggestions?

This is co-written by my best friend, will figure out how to credit her later.

Tell me what you think.

Loneliness.

It penetrates your brain.

Longing.

It beats through your veins.

Your name is Jake English and today happens to be your sixteenth birthday. You don't celebrate it like most kids do in the movies; instead you walk down the old dirt path through the jungle. You don't leap or laugh; your face is sober with mourning as you enter the frog temple covered in vines and overgrown brush

Standing at the entrance you take a deep breath and close your eyes. Sometimes you feel like she's still here. Taking another deep breath you grip the flowers in your right hand and open your green eyes. Slowly you will your legs to take small steps and move you into the heart of the temple.

You kneel down before the simple box. Your breath hitches in your throat as you gently set down the flowers you brought her. You sit there in the dim light and close your eyes. Tears streak from under your eyelids as you fill your mind with memories of her. She was the only person who ever loved you. She was the only person you have met or hugged or loved.

"I miss you grandma." You whisper to the air. Though you've acquired a nasty, almost schizophrenic habit of holding conversations with yourself, you know you're not talking to thin air.

She's there. You can feel it. You know it. She would never leave you all alone. With no one to talk to. No one to go on adventures with. No one to smile at. No one to hold when you're afraid. No one. She would never do that.

Your hands tremble as you bring them up to wipe your eyes. You're fifteen now; too old to be crying like this. You tell yourself this every year, but every year tears still stream down your face. Instead of crying less, you start to cry more.

The longer she's gone, the more the loneliness sets in. It keeps burrowing, deeper and deeper until you can't shake it off anymore. You can't lie anymore. Even the few friends you have now know. They noticed it. So you stopped talking to them. They say they worry, but they don't know you. No one knows you. Why would they care what happens to you? You could probably disappear and they would never notice.

Your fists pound against the hard stone and a loud thump echoes throughout the temple. Not now. You are not having these thoughts now. Today you always spend with your grandma; it's not going to be ruined by these pesky thoughts that plague your brain of late.

You take deep breaths, but your body shakes in sobbing fits. Oh, how much you want to see her again. To hug her and have her murmur in your ear about how everything is going to be okay. How much you need it to be okay.

You rise shakily to your legs and stumble out of the temple. You were wrong. You can't do this. Not today. You pull off your glasses as you run away and wipe frantically at your eyes trying to see straight. Stumbling into a clearing you fall back to your knees. You can't do it.

Finding your self in a sobbing fit again, you look over the bluff to the ocean down below.

No, no, no, no! Don't even think that!

"B-but I would be able to see her again. Wouldn't I? I-i wouldn't be so alone anymore."

Glasses forgotten you crawl over to the edge and look over. It's not that far of a drop, but the sharp rocks below make you shudder.

"It wouldn't hurt." You try to convince yourself quietly.

Yes it would. Don't try it.

"Living here hurts though. The pain wouldn't last as long."

You have friends to say goodbye to. They would miss you.

"No I don't. I don't want to bother them. They won't notice."

Yes! They will! They will notice! They love you! Can't you see? You're not alone! DON'T DO IT!

"No," You whimper as you scoot closer to the edge. "The afterlife is the only place I haven't explored. Maybe there is an adventure there waiting for me," You force yourself to smile weakly, "Maybe I won't alone."

Don't do it.

"I just want to see…" you bargain hopelessly.

You can't take it back once it's been done. Don't do it!

You take a deep breath, "I would be happier."

No you wouldn't! DON'T DO IT!

"I would be able to see her."

DON'T DO-

You block out the annoying voice. "I would be loved."

DON'T-

"I wouldn't be alone."

DON-

"Or scared."

D-

"I could make friends.
I wouldn't be in pain.
I could explore.
Learn new things!" Your vision blurs with tears as you start to lean forward, so you close your eyes, "I don't have to continue on."

"Don't! No! Stop!"

You jump and someone grabs your arm. That wasn't in your head. You just heard somebody speak to you.

And you notice you're falling.

Onto the ground behind you.

You're on the ground and a figure's on top of you. You can't see. You cry out for help, but stop when you realize there is nobody to help you. You're alone. You fight to get free from the figures grasp, but a sharp pain goes through your head and slowly you lose your strength to the pain.

You've given up.

Your head throbs.

That's your first thought returning to consciousness.

Your second thought; why am I not dead at the bottom of the ocean.

Opening your eyes you look around. You're in your room, but you can't make out much more than that without your glasses. What happened to those?

You attempt to sit up, but your joints freeze up when pain shoots through your body. Bringing your hands up to your head, you realize there is a bandage wrapped around it.
What?

Your heart rate picks up. You sit up in a panic and ignore the pain. The memory comes back to you. Someone's here. On your island, and they have to be around here somewhere. But before you can do anything about it, you have to find your glasses.
Grabbing a pistol off your nightstand you stagger out of your room. Are your glasses still outside? You groan. Do you seriously have to go outside to get them? They could be anywhere!

You sigh and try to navigate the staircase. Small, slow, steps and you should be fine.

No such luck.

Before you can react you slip and start to tumble down the stairs. You bring your arms up to your head protectively and shut your eyes, but you don't fall. Instead you feel someone's arms wrap around you and drag your shocked, limp, body back up to the landing.

"Boy, you are a lot of trouble." A sweet female voice huffs from above you.

"Then why do you bother?"

You feel her kneel down beside you and slowly remove your arms from your face. "Why don't you open your eyes?"

"I believe I asked you a question first."

"It's decency. I come to your island uninvited; I feel I should at least try to keep you alive during my stay."

"You should have let me die."

"Could you open your eyes now?"

"They don't do me much good without my glasses." You state as you open them and look at the stranger above you. You can't make out much but her long brown hair and black tee-shirt, a tan overcoat covering her arms.

"Your glasses?" She asks, "You weren't wearing glasses when I found you."

"Oh for the love of father Christmas," You mumble. "They could be anywhere."

"Don't worry, I'll go find them." She sighs and stands up.

"Oh, no!" You interject quickly. "You don't have to do that!"

"Yes I do. You can't do it yourself, so that means I have to do it."

"I am perfectly capable of-"

"No," She cuts you off. "You can't make it down a staircase. You're in no way fit to go off exploring through the jungle."

You open your mouth to protest, but she pulls you up and pushes you back to your room before you can.

"Go back to sleep."

You don't try to protest as you lay back down in your bed. It only takes moments for sleep to take you as your head makes contact with your pillow.

The next time you wake up you can see clearly. Your head still pounds, but you can manage to sit up without much difficulty. You reach a hand up to your face to fix your askew glasses and look around your room. Everything seems to be in order, except the first aid contents strewn throughout the room.

Noticing used bandages in the garbage you wonder how long you have been unconscious. She is quite the lady for taking care of you after what she saw, you think to yourself. She's practically nursed you back to perfect health. Even your wrists look better. You thought they would scar terribly, what with the way you've been treating them. She walks in as you are examining yourself and you jump at her sudden appearance.

"It's about time you woke up." She says putting down a tray of soup, water, and medication.
You nod slowly, "I guess I owe you a well deserved thanks. You were under no obligation to help me, but it is greatly appreciated," You look back down at your hands and examine the rough skin.

"I already told you, it's a moral duty. You probably would have done the same."

You glance at her out of the corner of your eye to her smiling kindly and sitting down in a chair that was pulled up to your bed. Turning your focus back to your hands you just sit there. You have never talked to anybody in person, besides your grandma. It's different than typing. You have read their reactions along with the words they speak. It's unusual and you're not quite sure if you like it.

"Aradia," You look up startled from your thoughts to see her hand extended towards you, "I never got a chance to properly introduce myself," She says in her sweet voice.

After a moment you take your hand out of the blankets and grab her hand lightly afraid of possibly crushing her hand, but she grasps your hand much tighter than you expect, "Jake English. Pleasure to meet you Aradia."

Aradia releases your hand and props her chin up with her fist while crossing her legs. "So Jake English," She starts quizzically, " What exactly are you doing on an uninhabited island all by yourself?"

You shrug, "Looking for an adventure I guess. But it's not uninhabited if I live here, right?"

She tilts her head to the side questioningly. "You actually live here?" She asks with a little bit of wonder in her voice.

You nod, "Well, of course I do! Been here my whole life!"

She smiles in amazement, "Did you build all of this?"

Much to her disappointment you shake your head, "My grandmother and I added a little here and there, but I'm not quite sure who actually built it."

"So your grandmother lives here too?"

"Well, not anymore," You look down at your blankets hoping she will drop the subject.

"Oh," She pauses and eyes you with concern, "How long have you been alone?"

"Much too long..." You murmur forlornly.

Your name is Dirk Strider and your nap is interrupted by the teacher rapping her desk with a ruler to get everyone's attention. You stifle a yawn and open your eyes to see what the commotion is. There's a new kid. A small smirk plays across your lips.

The poor kid looks like he's never seen a class room before. He holds his backpack awkwardly as his big green eyes under his glasses dart around the classroom anxiously. He must be new to New York. Must be from a small town like you. You feel a little sympathy for the kid remembering your first day here, but not enough to actually care introducing yourself.

Leaning back in your chair, you let your eyes close again as you vaguely listen to his introduction. You listen enough to gather his name is Jake something and he is from an island in the pacific. Wow, you thought Texas was far to travel.

After more pointless introductions the kid sits down and the teacher drones on. You must have fallen back to sleep because the next thing you realize is the bell shrieking. Stretching you stand up and walk out of class, but only to be stopped by an angry looking Miss. Noir.

"Strider."

"Yes, ma'm?"

You keep your expression blank as always when she crosses her arms.

"Answer me this, how can you manage to stay in this school when you don't do anything besides sleep through your classes?"

You shrug your shoulders, "What does it matter? I get good grades, I stay in school."

She narrows her glare, "I don't care what they thought at your old school, in this school class participation is part of your success." She pauses waiting for a reaction, but when there is none she continues, "I could easily flunk you regardless of the final test scores."

Your sharp intake of breath is the reaction she's been waiting for. You can't fail. Bro was so proud when the letter arrived in the mail. He had no clue you even had the grades to apply for a private high school. You're here on full scholarship. One bad grade and you're fucked.

"You wouldn't want that mister Strider, now would you?" She asks is sickly sweet tone. You swear she would melt if you dumped water on her.

Instead you answer with a simple "No ma'm."

The witch smiles. "Now, will you consider staying awake in my class from now on?"

"Yes ma'm, I'll make sure of it." With that you try to step past her, but she stops you with a bony hand on your shoulder.

"I'm not finished Strider. I would suggest you stay a second and listen."

The last thing you want to do is stay in the same room with her and no witnesses, but grades are something you know better than to shrug off. Slowly you look up at her smiling face.

She walks over to large oak desk at the front of the room and pulls out a pen and paper. She scribbles something down and hands the paper to you. You take it cautiously and examine the numbers.

"It's an address," She says like you couldn't figure it out yourself, "His name is Jake English and he's new to the town. Go introduce yourself and make him feel at home since you were too busy sleeping during class to do that," You groan as you stare down at the address. It's only a few blocks away, but New York during the winter months is not the most fun place to go on a walk, "If you know what's good for you, you'll follow through with that request."

She smiles coldly and glares at you and you just mumble another, "Yes, ma'm," and walk out the door.

You walk around the empting hallways and delay your task. She never said you had to do it right away now did she? You suppose you could find Roxy and explain to her why you'll be home late. That should kill an hour or so shouldn't it?

When you finally do find Roxy, it's two hours later. You tear her away from shamelessly flirting with Jane, and explain to her your little dilemma.

Bravo to you.

You decide to get on with things and find this dudes house so you can spend the rest of the night chilling with some sick beats.

As you walk you decide you'll stay just long enough to introduce yourself and tell him how awesome the school is and more bullshit like that. He'll be happy and your job will be done.

You take your freezing hand out of your pocket and ring the icy brass button on the door. Who ever this kid moved in with has some serious cash living in a what, three story town house? In fucking New York.

After the bell echoes inside the house for a moment, a lady opens the door. She looks too young to be a mother, a sister maybe? She has long brown wavy hair, warm brown eyes, and tanned skin. It's obvious she just came from the kitchen with the flour particles that cover her apron and are sticking in her hair.

She smiles warmly at you, "Oh, are you a friend of Jake's?"

You shrug nonchalantly, "You could say that."

"Lovely!" She opens the door and lets you in, "And here I was afraid he wouldn't make any friends. I'm Aradia by the way."

She sticks out her hand and you shake it as you step inside, "Dirk Strider. Nice to meet you," You say with a slight nod.

Aradia lets go of your hand and motions towards the staircase to your left, "He's been upstairs doing homework since he got home. It will do him good to take a break from it for a while. Go up both the staircases and its the room on the right," You nod and start walking up the staircase, "Oh, and tell him dinner should be done in a bit. You're welcome to stay if you like."

"I'll tell him, but I don't think I should stick around that long. Thanks for the invitation though."

"Oh, okay." You hear her chime as you run up the stairs.

You come to the third floor and walk to the door on the right side of the small hallway. The room must take up most the floor by the looks of it. You knock on the door and wait impatiently. When only silence answers you let out a sigh and knock again. After another minute of silence you decide that you're not going to wait around all night for the kid to open his door, and you let yourself in.

Doing so you look around the spacious room. A bed sits in the corner next a desk and a bookshelf already half full of books. Besides that just a bunch of cardboard boxes clutter the room. The kid is nowhere to be found. You look around the room again and notice a door ajar at the other end of the room. With nowhere to look you head over to it.

You tap lightly on the door and it creaks open more. It's the bathroom. From where you stand you can see a white counter and a sink.

"Hello?" You listen to your voice bounce off the tile with no response. The light is on, so you know he was probably in here at one point. Is he trying to hide from you or something? He's not making this any easier.

Taking a deep breath you step into the bathroom. A half wall separates you from the rest of the bathroom. You peek around it and freeze at what you see. You don't need to take a step closer to tell that a young man is lying fully clothed in pink bathwater.