**INCOMPLETE**
I felt the need to publish this since it will never be finished, just to serve as some final content when I take my leave.

| 15 | The Mighty Fall

***

Sleeping in the treehouse by myself is quite the terrifying experience. With knowledge that someone could possibly break in at any time didn't ease my nerves, so getting a good night's rest was impossible. Showing up at school the next day is the exact opposite of what I wanted to do, especially with the horrid bruise on my nose. Despite my displeasure, I got ready and headed out towards school. Might as well get breakfast along the way at the nearby bakery.

It takes me a while to find my way out of the forest and into civilization. The sky today is gray while the air is dry and frigid. I shiver, regretting not bringing another jacket. I really hope it doesn't snow.

I spot the bakery two blocks down from the school. It's petite, being in between a jewelry store and a convenience store, with no one in particular having their car parked in front of it on the street. I head indoors and bask in the heat. From there, I take a moment to gaze at the menu. A cake and some hot chocolate would be nice, but then again it is my breakfast. I decide to go for a sandwich instead.

"Hey, you're Seto, right?" The man behind the counter inquired. He takes me off guard and I jolt backwards a bit in shock. "Woah, sorry I scared you."

I step forward towards the counter, shuffling really, and took a gander at the male. He's taller than I with caramel colored eyes, coffee shaded hair, and warm skin. I don't recognize him from anywhere. His name tag reads "Mitchell," a name in which I've never heard of before.

"Yeah, I am," I finally respond, smiling back to him. "No offense, but how do you know who I am?"

"I go to your school," he coolly replies. "You know, the one that's two blocks away from here. I got into a fight last Friday and was suspended for a week, so my mom made me work here for the time being."

"Oh," was all I could say.

This guy gives out way too much information.

"Anyway," he whistles, "I'm Mitchell, you can call me Mitch if you want. So, what would you like to order?"

"I guess the ham and cheese sandwich with a hot chocolate."

"Gotcha," he snaps his fingers and rushes off to take my order. I laugh a bit as he drops some of the plastic cups onto the floor, scattering them with a loud crash. It takes him a while to clean them up.

He eventually comes back with my order, an overflowing hot chocolate and a sandwich (it somehow stayed perfectly in tact despite his clumsiness). "How much?"

"Oh, it's on the house," he beams.

I'm stunned for a moment, but then dip my head in gratitude, "Thanks. I'll be heading off to school, so I guess I'll see you sometime later?"

He perks up, a small smile wiped into his face, "Yeah, I'll see you later."

***

I haven't seen Brice all day and I'm beginning to get worried. We normally take strolls together to our classes, but it's unusual that he's absent, let alone without telling me. I don't particularly remember where his house was, so I can't visit him. I don't have his phone number, either (well, he actually gave it to me, but I've managed to lose it).

I head down the stairwell and exit the doors, finally leaving school. I inhale deeply whilst basking in the fresh air. There's nothing for me to do today: no homework assigned and no activities to attend to. I guess it's a good excuse just to wander around by myself.

Around Brice, I never felt so alive. Without him by my side, I feel as if I'm ostracized; an outcast wandering alone. It's lonely, really, to not feel his gleaming presence beat down on me in a positive light. I walk down an unfamiliar pathway heading towards the city buildings. Wouldn't hurt to get myself lost.

I listen to the passing cars and the background noise of people having everyday conversations. It's tending to the memories of that past, to which I stood in the streets of every major city visiting for a vacation. London, Tokyo, Beijing: you name it, I've probably been there. It's fascinating to listen in on someone else's conversation. It's rude to be eavesdropping, not that I condone doing that action, but hey, it's a public space.

I've grown oblivious to the sounds of my constantly ringing phone, but over all the noise I hear an unfamiliar ring tone. I've assigned my parents no ring tone, mainly because it would save me the trouble of being constantly awoken by the shitty sound, but someone different is calling me. I reach over into my bag, take out my phone, and see an unfamiliar number flash across the screen. Hopefully it's not some telemarketer. I head towards the nearby alleyway and answer the call.

"Seto," the voice on the other line says. I feel a smile tug at me lips.

"Brice!" I cheer, voice squeaked and high pitched. "I hadn't seen you all day! Where were you?"

There was a sense of hesitation in his voice, something profound even for him. My lips had sagged downwards, anticipating a negative response.

"I want you to meet me in the park," he says timidly, "the one near Cemetery Drive."

"Alright," I would say with caution. "How did you get my phone number?"

The line immediately dropped. I would sigh, shoving my phone back into my pocket. The way he spoke had reminded me of the times in which we first met. It's strange, really, how that time seems so distant in comparison to today. Before, we could hardly stand each other; now, we practically can't survive without each other. It makes my heart flutter in ways more than one.

I don't remember where Cemetery Drive is in all honesty, so I stop by the cafe again. Mitch is leaning against the counter on his forearms, his nose scrunched with a sour expression as he spoke to a decently built guy who I could only recognize as Jerome Aceti. He's in my homeroom.

"Oh, hey Seto!" Mitch greets with a wave, his expression lighting up. I awkwardly stroll inside, making sure to shut the door behind me as softly as I could. "My shift is near closing time, but I can help you to anything if you'd like."

Jerome seems to glare at me. It sends a wave of shivers down my spine as I vigorously shook my head, "I-I was just wondering about something. I need the address to Cemetery Drive."

"Cemetery Drive?" both speak in shock.

"Why the hell would you need to go there?" Jerome perks up. His voice is almost as loud as Mitch's, which I hadn't anticipated. Honestly, it caught me off guard—I've never heard him speak before.

When I get out of my stunned trance, I blink for a moment and speak, "My friend is asking to meet up there. What's wrong with Cemetery Drive?"

"There's a rumor that the place is filled with bad luck," Jerome says, pulling out his phone, "ever since one of the kids from our school got murdered there back in '86."

"That's over twenty years ago!" I exclaim.

"Well, whoever your friend is, you shouldn't go alone," Mitch hastily follows up. "Hey, Jerome, you're not doing anything later, right? Once I get off my shift, we'll escort you there."

"And how long will that take?" I question. "Your shift to end, I mean."

"I just need to go clock out," he replies, standing up properly and heading towards the 'Employees Only' door. He swings it open, disappearing momentarily before returning with a checkered-print jacket. He doesn't actually put it on once we stroll outside. It's surprising, considering how cold it is (or maybe I just need to get more flesh on my bones).

I walk in between Jerome and Mitch, who fall silent and merely look straight ahead. I'm tiny colored to these two, only standing up to about shoulder height. I've personally never seen them interact with each other before, but it looks as if they're not on good terms. Well, Jerome has a bitter façade resting on his face.

We head down the street and cut a corner, going down a road which looks oddly familiar. I only realize where we were once we passed Brice's house—I didn't realize he lived so close to the school (and a supposedly cursed cemetery).

Once we arrive at the entrance, Jerome stops in his tracks. Mitch stares at him, a soft gaze trapped in his eyes. It seems they're communicating through eye contact, as Jerome scowls and nods his head, then continues to walk. Instead, he's in front of us, leading the way.

"Who are you meeting up with?" Jerome says with no peculiar interest in his tone.

"Brice Solace," I merely shrug.

"Of course he's friends with the bad kid," Mitch groans, shaking his head. "Were you really going to meet up with him alone? In a place like this? You're really wanting a death wish, aren't you."

The last sentence sounded more like a statement, rather than a question. I, once more, shrug in defeat.

We walk past a row of graves before Jerome stops in his tracks again. I mindlessly bump into his back, toppling atop Mitch by accident. We're both on the ground; I'm sitting on his stomach. Before I could apologize, he gives a thumbs up. I brush myself off and stand up again.

"You should really give us a warning before you stop like that," I frown, nudging his back. "Hey, now that I think about it, why did you stop?"

"I don't have a good feeling about this meet-up," Jerome replies, shaking his head. "This place is giving me bad vibes, we should leave."

"What? Why?" I'm taken aback as I hastily glance around.

"