Day 1 by AlanDD winner of Fantasy's Halloween Vault 3D Contest

I felt more comfortable in the silence of the night. If I looked up at the sky, I could still see the lights from the party my friends had invited me to. October had always been my favorite month, I always looked forward to seeing the leaves fall, the scent of autumn in the wind, and movie nights together.

However, I had lost all interest. My head ached from the music, the drinks were too strong, and I felt like everyone was yelling more than they should. Even the smiles I saw made my stomach turn.

The place was a new club known for its theme parties, and the arrival of October was no exception. The screens played the Hammer movies, and songs from The Cure, Blutengel, London After Midnight, The Birthday Massacre, and of course, Bauhaus, filled the air.

Normally we'd be there until closing time, we'd all go to someone's house to sleep, and the next morning I'd be looking for homemade hangover recipes that someone would surely have. Most of the time it was Sean, who had no control when drinking, or Siobhan, who goes for the stronger drinks. I stayed away from alcohol because, first, I hated it and, second, I had a car.

But this time the atmosphere seemed so heavy that it was hard for me to breathe. What was I doing there? I didn't feel like seeing anyone, talking, or even standing. I wanted to go home, and luckily Dana had brought us all that time. I simply made a gesture to her when I saw her, although she surely understood anything else, I smiled, and went to the bathrooms to lose sight of her. Before anyone noticed, I was out the back door.

The fresh air was a blessing. I took a deep breath, feeling my back lighter, my lungs fuller, and my heart more alive. I preferred silence to the beats of music. For once, I needed to get away from there, to be on my own. I started walking aimlessly through the deserted streets, devoid of everything except lights and signs.

I lived nearby, so it would only be a matter of minutes before arriving. Half an hour, tops, if I entertained myself with something. I sighed while crossing an intersection, with the traffic lights washing over me as I crossed the street.

The cold grew stronger, the silence more penetrating, and the moon brighter. A glance at the sky confirmed that it did indeed look larger than usual. I kept walking until I reached the town square. Five minutes and I would be home.

I needed answers, to know what had happened to Tim, to know where he was, something. I needed... closure. I hadn't stopped thinking about him for... A year, I said mentally. We had last seen him on October 1 of last year.

Since then we had all moved, made calls, summons, collected money, and anything else that helped the police find him, but all to no avail. The case was closed in less than a year.

The others did the same. They got on with their lives and accepted that we might never hear from Tim again. After seven years he'd be declared dead, but I couldn't, I didn't want to accept it, and kept looking, even though I didn't get anything, nobody knew anything, until I had to go back to old tracks. Maybe now I'll find something, but the result was the same.

Something moved next to me as I passed in front of the lake, after the square, bringing me back to the real world. And I ran out of air. There was no way someone was there. The place was closed during Fall to avoid accidents, but a silhouette bathed in the silver light of the moon said otherwise. And not just any silhouette.

I approached with trembling legs, and his smile greeted me just like always. As if we had agreed to meet there. As if a year hasn't passed since I first saw him. The same chocolate eyes, the same dimples on the cheeks, the unruly hair and the black clothes. And my jacket, the one I lent him that night and that I thought he'd return the next day.

Tim held out his hand, saying nothing, and nodded toward the lake. Something moved inside, as if swimming. I took a few steps, unable to speak a word, and as soon as I took a breath I felt the world spin.

On the surface of the water I saw my image, the nights when I lay crying, 365 nights awake, without answers, surrounded by papers, photos, maps, pencils and markers. 365 nights without Tim. And he kept smiling.

"I didn't know I was that important." So he understood why I had refused. I swallowed thick.

"You never asked how much," I replied, forcing a smile, "what happened?"

"I'll tell you at your place." He rested his forehead on mine. His eyes, fixed on mine, shone brighter than the moon.

I laced my fingers with his. Finally. And I walked.