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Our reunion was much less dramatic than expected. I was numb by that point. I wasn't sure if it was the room or me, but everything around me was freezing. After a quick search, I found the drawer like shelf she was in. It wasn't hard since they all had their names on the front cover. My hand reached for the handle but stopped when I heard a shuffle behind me.

"Don't open that drawer." The man behind me commanded in a deep, drawn-out voice. Where did he come from? I tried to disobey him, but I couldn't. It was as if he had some sort of control over me. Something I couldn't fight.

"Are you the other one here for her body?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Because you told us not to."

"I don't understand."

"You never do." He said as if this was a regular occurrence for him. "Say your good-byes without opening the drawer then leave." He told me as he pushed up a head of jet black hair. Again, I couldn't tell him no. It might have been the stern look on his face. Or the overbearing height he had on me. Or the sinister voice that came from his mouth. Whatever it was, it caused me to listen without question.

I turned back to the closed drawer and closed my eyes. I tried to focus on what Xallia would have looked like tonight at prom. What kind of dress she would have worn, The way she may have done her hair and makeup. She didn't don't want to tell me anything because she wanted it to be a surprise. I guess now I will never know what she had in store. I focused on the image I had of her for a moment before I spoke.

"Hey," I started. I almost choked on my own words. It was hard to talk like that. Especially with an audience behind me. "You look beautiful. I know we would have had a lot of fun tonight, but I guess-" I couldn't finish my sentence so I cut it off before I got too far.

"They're taking you away for some reason. I don't know if I will ever get another chance to say goodbye, so I guess this is it. I wish I could say more, but I'm afraid if I did, I would stay here forever. I would never leave, I don't think. But I have to. Life goes-" Again, another sentence I couldn't or didn't want to finish.

"Goodbye, Xallia. I love you."

I opened my eyes again and looked around. I wished I could have woken up from all this as if it were some bad dream. I wanted to turn back time and act like this never happened. I couldn't, though. Fate is a cruel mistress. I turned around and saw the man from earlier was gone. I had my chance to look in the drawer if I wanted to but decided against it. I walked away from the morgue in a daze. I felt like I was floating. As if the whole world was a cloud, and I was far in the sky.

My dad wasn't around when I left. I looked up and down the hall, but I didn't see him. I checked the time on my phone and saw that much more time had passed than I thought. I thought I was in there for only a few minutes, but an hour had passed since I went in there. He must have gone back to the car to sit down or something. As I hovered through the white walls of the hallway, I saw it had become much more active in the short time I was down there. Nurses and doctors paced around. Patients made their way to the wings they needed to be. Even the janitors were busy already. Then here I was acting like a ghost in a foreign land. I needed to get out before I sunk into the floor as a real ghost.

Before I left, I wanted to get some coffee. Something to lift my spirits if that was even possible. The coffee shop wasn't open, but there was one of those cheap coffee dispensers instead. I knew it was going to taste terrible, but something was better than nothing in my mind. I selected what I wanted and went to pull my wallet out of my purse. I didn't even realize I had my purse until that moment. I guess I never took it off of my shoulder before I fell asleep on the couch. As I reached for a dollar bill, I noticed another folded up sheet of paper inside. I forgot about the coffee for a moment and pulled the piece of paper out instead. It was the note Xallia wrote to me long ago. The one written in a strange code. I wonder what she wrote here and if I was ever going to figure it out.

I studied the note as I sipped my coffee and walked out of the hospital. The moment I stepped out, I felt the sky shake from a thunder clap. My body tensed at the sound. From then on, the sound of thunder, rain, and storms was going to be a constant reminder about Xallia and her death. A reminder I could never avoid no matter how much I tried. Just like with Xallia's death, though, I still had to face it. I had to face the storm head on and be brave.

I breathed in and let it out slowly. Another thunder strike and a chill was sent through my body. It wasn't from the sound though. No, it was something else. I looked over my shoulder slowly and saw him there looking down on me. It was my teacher, Mr. Morgan, looming over my shoulder with his eyes on my letter from Xallia. I looked into his vibrant green eyes and noticed something peculiar. They weren't staring blankly at the sheet. They were scanning it back and forth.

He was reading it.

"How are you doing that?" I asked as I tore the sheet of paper away from his view. "How are you able to read something like this?" I demanded to know. Xallia made this up on her own, didn't she? How could someone like him be able to decipher it so quickly? And he seemed to understand it fully without any time to figure it out?

"I wonder how she learned Tarsian so quick." Mr. Morgan said to himself. Tarsian? What was that? Some kind of alien language? I was sick of the riddles. What did he and the guy in the morgue know about Xallia that I didn't? What was the big secret, and why did he set all this up?

"Who are you? Why did you do all this? Why did you give me this key?" I said as I fished the same key he had given me all that time ago. By then, the key never left me. There were so many questions I wanted to ask him. Those were simply the first to come out of my mouth.

"I'm Vincent Morgan. I did it because I had to. I gave you the key so you would meet Xallia." He answered the questions so vaguely. The last answer, though. Everything was on purpose. I was supposed to meet her. Was I supposed to love her ,though? Was I supposed to date her? Was she supposed to die?

"You've planned all this from the beginning, haven't you?" I said.

"Not everything, unfortunately."

"Like what?"

"This right here for one."

"She wasn't supposed to die."

"That's never in the plans. Always seems to happen though," he muttered the last part. I thought he was an English teacher. What was he really?

"So, her and I? Was that a part of your plan?"

"Yes. That part is always in the plan." More riddles.

"So it's your fault," I whispered, feeling myself getting upset. "It's your fault I ended up with her. It's your fault I dated her. It's your fault she went to prom with me. Your fault she ended up having to drive and get it a wreck. Everything boils down to you," I cried out. I ripped the key from my neck and threw it at him. "If it weren't for that damn key I wouldn't be here right now. I wouldn't be feeling this way. I wouldn't. . .I wouldn't. . ." I stopped and dropped to my knees. My legs felt weak. I wanted to lift myself up to keep the water from soaking into the fabric of my dress, but I couldn't bring myself to get up. I was stunned by the grief. I wanted to blame him. I wanted to blame myself. I wanted to blame someone or something to ease the suffering, but there wasn't anyone to blame. It was fate.

I heard a splash as Mr. Morgan stepped through a puddle to get closer to me. I offered little resistance as he pulled the note Xallia left me from my hand. I saw him whip out a pen from his pocket and begin to write on the paper. I wasn't sure if it was ironic or not for an English teacher to decode a note in another language, but I was thankful in a way. Who knew the first one to give me my first key would also be the one to give me my last one as well? A few minutes later, it was folded and placed back into my hand.

I don't know how long I was there for. My father eventually found me and carried me back to the car. He didn't ask what happened or why I was there. He didn't say a word, actually. When we got home, I went to my room and changed into my pajamas. Heartbroken or not, no one wants to sit in a wet prom dress. I turned off the lights to my room and flipped on a lamp at my desk, leaving a very dimly lit room. I sat at my desk and unfolded the note and true enough, Mr. Morgan had translated it for me. I prepared myself and began to read through it.

My Dear Anya,

I don't know when or if you will ever be able to read this. I don't understand how I even know the language I am writing this in. I'm writing this so I can tell you everything I could never express in words because I've been too afraid to say them out loud. Anya, I've been having these dreams or memories. I'm not sure what they are exactly, but they are growing more and more. In these dreams, I'm always somewhere doing something great. Something amazing, but also something beyond scary. Some of them are things that I can't even begin to describe. They're always different though. Each and every one of them bears a different story to tell. There are a few things though that remain constant. One of those things is you. You're always there. Always by my side. Somewhere or another. As if we have been together much longer than just the few months we have known each other. I can't tell anyone else about these things. I don't think they would believe me even if I did. You would though, right? I was afraid of these dreams or memories or whatever they were before I met you. When you came through that door for the first time, though, I knew everything was going to work out. I knew I was going to have a happy ending. You were my key Anya. The key I needed to face all the things growing in my mind. I wanted to thank you for that. I've rambled on long enough. I love you, Anya. I hope to see you soon.

-Love Xallia-

A fresh tear hit the page and was drawn into the paper. I put it to the side before any more could ruin the last thing I had of her. Everyone has their key. Even her. To think that we were each other's key. I wondered what was happening with the sudden memories or dreams she had. Did it have something to do with Mr. Morgan and the other guy? I put the note away and leaned back in the chair. A smile spread across my face. It was hard to smile in a time like that, but there were two things that made it possible. The first being I now knew what was on the note and that it brought A warmth to a cold heart. The second was the memories she was having. Yeah, I wanted to think of them as memories. If her memories were true, it could mean something fantastic.

It meant we would see each other again.

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