Dear Fin,

    It's been three minutes since I finished my last letter to you. After I signed my name, I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I'm so sorry for everything that has happened, I'm sorry that if you ever read this letter that you'll be reminded of your pain. But we need to talk about this, it needs to come out. It needs to happen.

    Let's begin.

    Continuation of Encounter Number Seventy-Two:

    Your mother arrived in tears.

    I had only met the woman who birthed you a handful of times, since she was busy working to support your family. She had your emerald green eyes, but her smile was shy and her hair was auburn and her features weren't quite as sharp. In personality, she was quiet and sweet and studious.

    I offered to drive, since neither of you seemed to capable. You had stopped crying, but I could see the numbness taking over you. In the back seat, your mother curled into your arms, sobbing her name again and again. You didn't react.

    We got to the hospital in record time, since I started speeding. I couldn't decide if I liked the hospital or not, it smelled like birth and death and hope and love and despair and agony. I wondered if you noticed the smell.

    Upon arriving, I let you two out so you could see her as fast as you could. I found a parking spot, before entering and approaching the front desk. The foyer of the hospital was chaotic, with people sitting in all sorts of places, waiting for care; many people sat around the main table, asking for room numbers and signing in.

    When it was finally my turn, I said to the older nurse, "Hi, I'm looking for Etta Erickson."

    She couldn't even look me in the eyes. "She's in the emergency room. Just pass the doors and keep going until you find the rest of your family."

    I thanked her before following her instructions. The emergency room smelled stronger of death and despair and agony, but also of hope. Hope lingered in my nose, such a strong scent it threatened to make me pass out.

    I found you and your mom, quickly.  You were sitting in chairs, holding hands, while a cop and a doctor had pulled up chairs in front of you two to speak. I could hear the quiet murmur from here, their voices echoing in the white hallways.

    ". . . blood alcohol level wasn't too high, but high enough . . ."

    " . . . swerved sharply to avoid hitting a car, she was flipped into a ditch . . ."

    ". . .  there wasn't much paramedics could do upon arrival . . ."

    "I'm sorry for your loss."

    I'm sorry for your loss.

    Etta Erickson was lost.

    But that wasn't . . . possible. I had seen her a few hours ago, she was completely fine! Happy, in fact, and so beautiful. Etta Erickson could not be dead. She had to be alive. If not just for me, but for you; you had lost enough people in your life. The doctors were wrong, they had to be. I refused to believe otherwise.

    Soon you spotted me. You arm was around your mother as she sobbed, curling into your chest. You, though . . . your eyes were blank, completely empty of emotion. The agony was so sharp you couldn't even feel it yet, which was the worst kind of pain. I blinked back the tears that hung in my lashes, before stepping towards you.

    And I knew they weren't wrong.

    She was gone.

    The doctor and the cop sat back, to give you two a moment, and they didn't seem to mind when I sat next to you on the floor. I grabbed your hand from you knee, kissing your knuckles. You looked at me for a moment, your eyes blank, before gripping my hand as hard as you possibly could. You gulped as the pain rose to a small sting.

    I would be here for you.

    "Would you like to see her?" The doctor asked, gently.

    You and your mother shared a glance, before she eventually nodded. "If . . . if that would be alright."

    "Of course, it would be," the doctor confirmed, before standing, ready to lead you two to where Etta Erickson's body was.

    As you stood up, you pulled me with you. You voice was gentle with you spoke. "I-I need to go. You know, say goodbye. But, I just don't think I can . . . face it, by myself, again. I just- will you come with me?"

    I nodded. "I'll do wh-whatever you wa-want me to."

    "Thank you," you murmured.

    You curled your arm around your mother's shoulders again, as tears fell from her eyes. She didn't question why I was joining you two in the majorly private affair. Maybe it wasn't my place, but if you wanted me there, then I would be. I would fly to the moon if you asked me to. I held your hand in both of mine.

    The doctor led us to the morgue.

   There were other bodies in the room, I assumed, since many areas were boxed off behind white curtains. Plus, the room contained the sickly sweet scent of death . . . hope had not touched this corner of the hospital. The doctor led us to one of the closest ones.

    He said, "You might want to go in one at a time."

    We followed his recommendation, somewhat, as your mother went in her first. Through the curtain, I could hear her crying. "Oh, my baby girl, I miss you so much already. What are Fin and I going to do without our little dash of daily Etta? What will we do without our sunshine? Oh, my princess. You're too young to be gone, like your father. Maybe you're with him, wherever you are. I hope you're, I know you will like him quite a lot. He was like you, so like you; you had his smile, did I ever tell you that? That beautiful smile of yours; but now that smile has been erased from existence, it's gone . . . Etta, why did you have to go? Why?"

    And then she was sobbing again and my heart shattered in my chest. The reality was too much. You were clenching your jaw, your eyes distant, and I knew the pain was becoming too sharp. I wrapped my arms around your chest, rubbing your back. I refused to let the tears fall her, I refused to.

    "I have to go now, my darling. I don't want to, but I have to be strong for the family. I will be strong for you, I promise. I love you, Etta, baby. I love you more than anything in the world. Goodbye," she said. And I heard the slight smack of her lips, as she pressed a kiss onto her daughter. One last kiss.

    When she stepped out, she had wiped the tears from her cheeks. She was clearly upset, and the doctor wrapped her arm around her as you and I stepped forward. You needed me there, as I said before. You needed me like never before.

    The curtain closed around us as we faced the body of Etta Erickson, the hallow shell that used to be your sister. Her body from toe to collarbone was covered by a white sheet; her skin was pale and splotched with bruises, scars lining her innocent skin. Her green eyes were closed, her rosy lips slightly parted, as if aching for a breath of life to enter that never would. Etta Erickson was gone and seeing her dead body only made it more unbearably apparent.

    "Hey, sis," you greeted.

    She didn't respond.

    You kept staring at her eyes, even though they were unseeing. "I hope you don't mind that I brought Annalise with me; although you always said you liked her, my pretty fairy girlfriend. I just . . . I couldn't face you alone. Hell, I'm surprised I even managed to come see you. When they first told us you're gone, I didn't really believe them, because you're so you. Etta Erickson is full to the brim with life and even imaging for a moment that you weren't seemed preposterous. But just looking at you now, I don't know how I'm still here. I don't know how I'm still standing up, blinking, breathing, living; because without you, the mere idea of being alive is excruciating. Why did it have to be you, Etta? Why wasn't it me? I would give anything to change that, to be the one in the car, to be the one gone. Because you deserved to live more than anyone I've ever known. But now . . . you're . . . gone."

    And that's when you, Finland Erickson, fell apart. Your eyes as clouds, leaked tears like rain down your cheeks, which were painted gray like the skies; lighting burned in your gaze as agony threatened to tear you apart, thunder roaring from your lips again and again. I wrapped my arms around you, as if I could remove the storm that threatened to tear you apart. You clung to me, seeing shocks of electricity flowing through me as I was struck by lightning again and again, but I refused to let you go.

    "I'm sorry," you cried again and again.

    You were shattered and l

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                                             t. I wanted to pick up all the pieces to your fragmented heart, but they're hiding, screaming for Etta. Each heart was her name: Etta, Etta, Etta. I found some of the pieces in your tattered car, some in your pocket, some in my pocket, some on Etta herself, and many places I can't even begin to count. Sometimes, I wondered if all the pieces have even been found yet, because I know I couldn't find them all; after all, you were the master of hide and seek.

    And soon, you knew it was time to say goodbye, so you did. Just a quick murmur that fell from your lips, but I knew you couldn't manage anymore. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, brushing words against her lifeless form, as if they could her to life. "Goodbye, Princess Etta, maybe we'll meet in another life."

    We left.

    But Etta was always, in some form, with you.

    End of Continuation of Encounter Number Twenty-Two.

    Etta Erickson died on March 27th, 2010. It has been almost four years since she's died, not a day has gone by where I don't remember the pain of her being gone because part of the pain was watching you suffer. The loss of your younger sister, after your father, shattered you. In my own way, I was just as l

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                     t as you. We're both irreparably broken at the time, it felt like. Although, maybe, Ally has fixed you. Part of me hopes that she did fix you; another part prays that I'll be the one to do it. I hate that part of me.

    I left Etta orchids at her grave, because I felt like the wild flowers were the only thing close to capturing her beauty and verve. There were some roses and daises –which I automatically knew were from you- sat there as well.

    I told her about my painting and Ailsa and Bea and Claude's upcoming wedding. I told her about seeing Ally, I told her about missing you. She seemed to understand, because she remained silent. Part of me hoped she would reply. But she was gone, which was still hard for me to accept, and she was never going to respond. I would never hear her voice again, or see those sparkling green eyes, or see that enigmatic smile.

    Etta Erickson was gone and supposed I don't know how I dared get up in the morning without her by my side.

    I don't know how to live myself without her, Fin. I feel so guilty. We're the ones who let her drink; we're the ones who sent her driving. We're the worst kind of monsters: human beings. How do you manage it?

    I need you right now, but I know I can't ask for you. Besides, you have Ally, why would you need me anyways?

    Say that you miss me.

    Say that you love me.

    -Annalise.

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Hey Reader!

    Song: "Youth" by Daughter. Picking a song for this chapter was really hard to do because there are so many great songs that capture the emotions in this part of the story. But this song . . . this song is about being alive and living every moment because it matters; it speaks of being in pain and you're in pain because you're living but you have keep living anyways, because that's what those who are dead would want you to do.

    I love you all. Thank you for reading. Thank you for being wonderful. Thank you for being you. I wish I could speak to everyone who has and will ever read this and tell them how beautiful and perfect and wonderful they are and that the world would be a darker place without them. You have all inspired me so much . . . if you ever need anyone to talk to, don't hesitate to send me a message :)

    Love Your Favorite Liar <3