My pencil writes my thoughts. The words flow from my brain, down my neck, dribble across my arm, run down my pencil, and slowly develop themselves onto the letter. The letter that was to someone who would never be able to read it. I write.

‘To Savannah,’

‘I miss you Savannah. I would do anything to have you back. When I walk home from school, my hand feels like it is too empty, like it should be closed around someone else’s- yours. But when I reach for your hand, my fingers close around vacant air. I look above me to the blue heavens and search for you. I know you are among the angels. But when my eyes search the skies above me, I only see a bleak landscape of blue, but no sign of you. Your death is insufferable, unbearable for me. I am never happy. Everywhere I look I see you. In the school corridor, under the old willow tree where I first saw you, on the bench at the park- but I know it’s all in my head. My whole world seems darker since you left. Like someone has placed an invisible tapestry over my head. Now my view on everything is darker. I've been doing some research on alternate worlds. Though there is not an alternate world where we didn't get into that fight, a world where that driver hadnt been intoxicated, a world where my sorrows would be lifted. Here, I am sinking deeper and deeper into raw, cold despair, wallowing in the black pitch of my guilt and hopelessness. All I can do is sit back and watch each thin ray of hope perish. The only spindle thread of hope, remains to be if I also sink into the same eternal catalepsy that you have; to see you again in the bright white lights of the heavens above. None the less, i will never stop loving you. The black veil of death can not stop our love; it can not separate us forever.’
‘With Love,’
‘Chase’

A small tear streaks down my face and onto the paper that I write on. I wipe it away with the beck of my hand.

I walk to the church. Her funeral had been earlier that day, so her coffin was still in the church. The trees dance in the wind, sprinkling my face with spheres of water from an earlier shower. I open the large wooden doors into the church and close them behind me with a defiant thud. The silver moon drapes multi-colored light onto the red carpet beneath my feet and flows over her desolate coffin. I pace up to it and grab the stained pine wood with a shaking hand. I told myself that the only chance I had to get the letter to Savannah was to put it with her body. I lift the lid. There was no form of enshroud upon her body. I stare at her pale skinned face, her skin as pallor as snow. Never had she looked so beautiful, as when the life was completely drained from her body. I take her cold hand and place the letter into her fingers. I hold her chilled hand in mine, though it sent a seething pain into my heart. I set her lifeless hand onto her stomach. I saunter out of the holy building, more disheartened than ever. Not being able to contain my grief, I tilt my head back and let out a sob that came from deep within my soul. I open my eyes, my vision blurry with tears, and in the stars above, I could have sworn I saw her face glimmering with beauty among the stars.