Dear Fin,

I find mythology so fascinating. Mythology are tales spun from the very fabric of humanity, tales weathered and battered but still worth a good spin, although you have to be gentle. Mythology is a glimpse into a world where magic roams freely and love is practically palpable with its thickness in the air . . . mythology is a brief glance at a world which I desperately wish existed.

One of my favourite tales is of a wood nymph named, rightly so, Echo. Hera, the wife of Zeus who was the leader of all the gods and the lightning one himself, caught her husband in an affair with Echo. Although Echo hadn't meant any harm by her actions, Hera cursed her, so that the only way she could speak was by mimicking what those had said before her. The curse wasn't too painful, fortunately, until Echo came upon Narcissus. Narcissus was a young demigod, a partly mortal and partly god man, who had been graced with heart-strikingly good looks. Echo, instantly infatuated with him, was willing to do anything he pleased. To please him, she showed him a small creek, which glimmered perfectly to cast one's reflection perfectly; Narcissus took one glance at the reflection and was so enamoured with his own beauty, he sat staring at his own beautiful face until he perished. And Echo, completely enthralled by the handsome young man, just watched as she echoed his actions.

Sometimes, I think I'm Echo.

And then, I wonder who you are. Are you Zeus, a man who is more than just a man with more power over everyone; or are you Narcissus, the vain yet handsome young man? Sometimes, I think I know and sometimes I think I don't. Right now, I think you're Narcissus, because although Zeus allowed Echo to be cursed -much as you have with me- Narcissus cared far more for himself than for Echo, as you did with me.

You're my little narcissist.

Encounter Number Two Hundred:

"No, I don't believe it, I mean . . . I can't. It's not possible," I insisted, staring up at the doctor from my leather seat. Numb disbelief had spread through my body as the doctor revealed the news to me and now as my brain had processed it, I refused to believe it. It couldn't be. I mean, I would've known, right? There was no way I was-

"Pregnancy," Dr. Bolton started, in a gentle tone. "Can be very easily detected from a blood test, Ms. Martin. I know it's big news, but you must've had your suspicions . . . you came in today because you're worried that you hadn't had your menstrual cycle in two months-"

"I use protection! I'm save, I'm . . . you're sure, aren't you?"

"Positive."

I gulped, the news finally sinking in. I was pregnant; I was going to have a baby. Of course, like the doctor had said, I had my suspicions; my period had been irregular, my eating and sleeping patterns have changed and yesterday, I noticed the slightest of bumps along my abdomen. Upon seeing it, I had known, I just didn't want to believe.

Having a baby, of course, wasn't a bad thing. In fact, I loved children. But you and I are so young and having children now would affect our entire lives . . . plus, there was the fact that I hadn't seen you for several months and now I had to tell you that I had your child stirring around in my uterus. It was rather a challenge.

"How far along am I?" I asked, nervously.

"My guess is around eight to ten weeks," Dr. Bolton informed me.

I just didn't even know how to respond.

He sighed. "Ms. Martin, I know this must be very shocking for you. Plus, you're so young and these unplanned pregnancies at your age can be very tedious . . . but, I don't want you making any rash decisions. You probably have some questions, but I'm sure it'll be easier to ask them once you've really thought about this baby and consulted the baby's father -you said you had a boyfriend, yes?- about the possibility of taking on a new life. Go home and just maul it all over, alright?"

I nodded. "Thanks, Dr. Bolton."

After leaving the doctor's office, the first place I headed was your apartment. I had returned home for Christmas holidays and I was quite excited to see you, since we hadn't been together since Halloween; we have both been so busy with school and with work. You weren't expecting me, I wasn't supposed to see you until my family's Christmas party, but I had to see you, I just needed to tell you about this baby before I could do anything else.

After a short walk -since it's a small town- I arrived at your apartment building. Your apartment wasn't very . . . secure, considering I didn't even have to buzz up to get inside the building and up the elevator. I remember thinking you should complain about that. Anyways, I got to your door and knocked.

As the door started to open, I tried to put on a pleasant grin so I didn't look so stressed. I wanted the news of my pregnancy to come out in the right way; I didn't want to scare you.

But it wasn't you behind the door, it was Ally.

Instantly, her eyes widened with surprise. "Annalise?"

"Ally?" I asked in return, equally surprised.

We're both silent for a moment.

"Not to be rude." I hesitated with my next words. "But what are you doing here?"

"Visiting Fin, what about you?" She replied, but I guess that was pretty obvious.

"Same."

"He didn't tell me he was . . . um, expecting you," Ally admitted.

"I thought I'd surprise him. I, um, also need to tell him something, but I can come back later. I didn't mean to intrude on your visit with him, I'm sorry," I apologized, starting to turn around, embarrassed that I had come to visit you when you're busy. "I'll just go-"

"No, really, it's okay. Just a bit of a surprise, really, Annalise. Come on in," she insisted, waving me inside with a flicker of her wrist.

I hesitated for a moment before obeying her command. Everything happened so fast that I'm sure I inspected your apartment, I just don't remember any of the details. I just remember sitting down on a sluggish couch and then . . . and then the world fell apart.

"Ally, baby, who was it- oh."

It was you.

You had come up from behind Ally, wrapping your arms around her waist. But now, your arms hung frozen in the air, your lips shaped in a circle of surprise. Your hair was shaggy and your green eyes glistening in the meek winter light, you're just wearing your underwear. That's when I realized that Ally was just wearing a baggy band shirt, your baggy band shirt.

"Baby?" I questioned. "I didn't know you called your ex-girlfriends baby."

Ally scowled. "Fin, what's going on? I thought . . . I thought you said it was over between you and Annalise."

"Um . . ." You obviously couldn't think of anything to say.

And instantly, I knew. You had been cheating on me with Ally and you're cheating on Ally with me; she thought it was okay since we had broken up, so I couldn't really blame her. But you . . . I loved you. You're the only person who ever made me feel worthwhile in my life; you made me feel smart and pretty and special. And it that single word (one syllable, two letters, one vowel, one consonant), you had taken it all away. I was once again Annalise Martin, the freak that no one liked.

"You didn't break up with her, did you?" Ally murmured, gently.

Silence overtook us as Ally and I stared at you.

And she took that for a yes. Ally pushed you away from her, malice gleaming in her bright blue eyes. "You're a twisted bastard, Finland Erickson. How dare you cheat on her and me?"

"Ally-" You started, reaching towards her, but she backed into the corridor. She wouldn't let you touch her.

But I didn't let you finish because it was my turn to speak. Because regardless of all the moments we spent with each other, the praises we exchanged, the confidences we boosted . . . it didn't mean anything, not any of it. So who cares what I said then? Obviously you didn't. "No, A-Ally, it's f-fine. I'll go."

She shook her head. "No, I have to leave, don't you see that? You can't let bastards like him push you around. I'm not and I refuse to let you-"

"Y-you b-belong with h-him," I murmured, interrupting once more.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," you added, your voice a mumble, from beside me. "Ally, you're my very purpose. I want to cherish you."

"We're done," she hissed.

"Ally, please," you begged.

But she was already heading away from us. From the apartment, I could hear a few muffled thumps that made me think she was packing things away. And as you had removed me from your life, she had removed you.

"I didn't lie about anything, Annalise. I swear I didn't. I . . . I don't know what to say to you," you started.

"You d-don't need to say an-anything," I murmured back, careful not to meet your eyes. Because I knew the moment I saw those emerald fires, I would do anything to keep them lit.

"Dove, look at me," you insisted, reaching out towards me. Your fingers had just grazed my chin when I flinched away from your touch. If you touched me, you might break my skin as you had my heart. I swallowed the sob that was burning in my throat. "Why won't you just look at me?"

And since you asked, I did what you wanted. And it just hurt more to see those enchantingly green eyes that swallowed me up in a sea of you, because no matter how much you hurt me, you would always be the man I love. Or rather, the first man I loved. And my first friend, arguably best friend. And the only good thing that has ever really happened to me. "I d-don't un-understand, Fin."

"What are you talking about, dove?" You replied, but you knew exactly what I was talking about. It was also the second time you had referred to me as dove during that encounter, but not your dove. Your words, or rather the lack of them, were like a stab to my heart.

"D-don't act s-stupid," I insisted, blinking back the tears in my eyes. "I thought . . . I th-thought we're ha-happy to-together! But I g-gues that w-was a lie, t-too. Wh-what else d-did you lie ab-about, Fin; was it a-all a lie?"

You gulped. "Annalise-"

"D-don't make ex-excuses!" I snapped, my tone taking on a bitter edge. "You e-either love me or y-you don't, but you m-made it wor-worse and lied ab-about it. How c-can I tr-trust an-anything you sa-say?"

"I'm not lying," you repeated slowly, as if I were a dim child who didn't comprehend what you're saying.

"How am I su-supposed to be-belive that when y-you are he-here with her, af-after you said you t-two we-were done?"

"I didn't lie," you hissed. "I'm not a liar!"

But that was a lie. And that lie was the worst one of them all, because you're denying the only thing you ever truly were, a liar. And by denying it, you just proved it even more. And I knew . . . I knew anything and everything you had ever said to me meant shit. You're lying the whole time after all; you lied when you said I was pretty, you lied when you said I was smart, you lied when you said I was worth something. I should've known that it was too good to be true.

And then I couldn't control the tears. They streaked my cheeks, the tears painfully cold against my skin, as a sob tore from my throat. I placed my face into my twined arms which were placed on my knees, not wanting you to see me in this moment of weakness. Our relationship had been like the calm before the storm and now that the storm had hit, I didn't want you to process the severity of the storm, to see the damages you had caused within me.

At first, you tried to console me. You reached out to touch me, but when you realized I kept flinching away from you, you retreated. Then, you tried speaking using a soothing tone. But the more you spoke, the louder I wailed; you're like a siren from Greek mythology, your beautiful song promises all the greatness in the world and you lure sailors -or me- in before pushing them into their untimely death. I don't want to allow you to continue casting spells on me.

That's all you are, after all, a siren.

Soon, after you realized I didn't want you around, you got angry. From underneath your handsome and charming features, the monster that was really you arose. Fury moulded the shape of yours eyes and mouth and nose and cheeks and chin, creating a creature that was even fouler than the storm disaster that was me.

"Stop crying, Annalise. I thought you're a grown woman, so act like you're, unless you want to be treated like a child. Is that it? Well, here's a tissue, little girl. Would you like me to get you your dolls? Maybe that would cheer you up," you sneered.

And suddenly, you were no longer the you that I loved, but some he that I detested. And everything that had ever happened between us meant nothing because that's what you thought of it. Over a year of being together and friendship didn't mean anything to you. And I hated you. I hated you more than anything in the world, except maybe myself. Because I should've realized you, like everyone else, would hurt me.

"I-I'm s-sorry," I murmured.

"Don't stutter, you fool. I thought you were over that pathetic little phase of yours; obviously you still need a therapist. No surprise there that Little Girl Annalise can't handle her own problems, she goes crying to Mommy when someone so much as blinks at her. But, oh wait, her own mother hates her. I can't really blame her, who would want such a pathetic excuse for a daughter?" You growled, your voice mimicking the ferocity of a cold-blooded killer.

Your eyes, so vividly green, were gleaming with malice. You watched me through eyes of narrow slits as I struggled to control my sobbing, which only made the situation worse. I remember a time where you would only look upon me with the upmost care, the gentlest of glimmers shrouding your gaze, but now . . . but now you're a monster. My worst nightmare. You're Finland Erickson.

"Fin?" It was Ally. Through my haze of tears, I could see her examining this scene from the doorway, a duffle bag clutched in her hand. She had removed your shirt and changed into tee-shirt of her own, sliding on jeans. "What are you doing?"

You didn't even bother me with a glance. "Talking to her."

"You're making her cry," she accused.

"We're having a touchy conversation," you reasoned.

"Touchy conversation my ass," she hissed.

"How would you know, you-"

"C-can I u-use the wa-washroom?" I asked, interrupting the arguing couple once more, as nausea rolled through my body. I recognized the queasy feeling as one I associated with my morning sickness, another one of the side effects of my pregnancy that sent me skittering to a doctor. I didn't want to barf all over you. I almost vomited right there when I realized I still hadn't told you about the baby.

They're both silent for a moment.

You just about started speaking right where you left off when Ally spared you a sinister look. "Come on, Annalise, I'll show you the way."

I barely made it to the bathroom before I was head-deep in the toilet bowl, barfing in the most unpleasant of ways. I won't describe it any more. Ally was kneeling next to me, holding my hair back as she rubbed circles with her nails onto my back and made soothing noises. Her fussing over me like a mother only made me cry more, because her I was as a potential mother who was acting like a child, who needed to be treated like one as you had said. You were right, which was the scariest part.

I pulled my head out from within the bowl, catching my breath before another heave could have me. And for a moment, I glanced to the side, catching Ally's eyes with tears glistening within my own. And she knew, I know she knew.

"How long?" Ally breathed, the words so quiet I barely managed to catch them.

"T-ten weeks," I murmured back. "Since Hal-Halloween."

"And it's his," she said, her statement sounding more like a question but we both knew the answer as she spoke.

I nodded.

"Then you have to tell him, Annalise. I'll leave, I'll leave you two forever so you can be a happy family together. I know things are bad now, but there was a time where he used to worship the ground where you walked on, and I'm sure with some persuading plus the fact that there's a baby on the way could make it that way again," she told me.

I sighed. "It i-isn't t-that sim-simple."

"How so?"

"B-because he loves you, Ally. The w-way he was l-looking at you, j-just now . . . he h-has nev-ever looked at me l-like that," I explained.

"I can't ask you, or more specifically your child, to give up their father and a family for me," Ally argued, as even the mere idea baffled and disgusted her.

"To be hon-honest, Ally, I d-don't . . . I don't th-think I can be a moth-mother," I admitted, saying the words that have been lingering in the back of my mind since Dr. Bolton had revealed the truth to me.

"Annalise . . ." She was at a loss for words.

"Be with him, Ally," I insisted. "Th-that's wh-what will make him hap-happy, which will ma-make me hap-happy. Jus-just prom-promise . . . pro-promise you won't tell him."

I could see tears swimming in her eyes. "I don't know . . ."

"Ally, please," I pleaded.

And finally, she nodded and we shared not another word.

When I finished vomiting, I murmured polite farewells before departing. If I could help it, never seeing that apartment would be a blessing in itself. As I got to the street I noticed the deep velvet sky scattered with day blind stars and I realized, in an instant, several things: I didn't know my way home, it was cold outside and I wasn't ready to be a mother.

So I called my dad and he did three things: got me a coat, drove over to where I was and drove/paid for my abortion that evening. He was there for me the whole time, carefully holding my hand as the whole world fell apart around me.

End of Encounter Two Hundred.

Greek mythology sure is interesting, isn't it?

-Annalise

*

Hey Reader!

Note: so this is a chapter I wrote a very long time ago . . . there are a lot of things I wish I did differently in this. Since, I have actually written this scene differently in future drafts of this story. There are certain elements of this chapter that I like, and certain things that I feel are carelessly and insensitively written. If anything here is offensive to you, I apologize.

Chapter's Song: "Pompeii" by Bastille. This song is about watching your life fall apart before your eyes, which is appropriate for this chapter

Love Your Favorite Liar <3