"Why am I not surprised to be back in this place?"

I looked over at my mother, now even farther away than before. The gray light behind her seemed brighter, warm, inviting.

"Selena," my mother said, and I noticed the tears rolling down her face. "Why did you let him do this to you? Why did you not fight back?"

"Because I'm done fighting," I replied firmly. "Look at me! I'm pathetic! I don't know what to do with myself anymore! Everything would he fine if I hadn't insisted on going with you that day ten years ago. If I hadn't left home when Dad had told me not to. Now that I can't take those back..." I sat on the ground; or at least, what would have been the ground if we hadn't been floating; and held my head in my hands. "Now I'm better off dead, and out of everyone's way."

"Selena," my mother said softly, and I could hear the sadness in her voice. She took a few steps forward. "Do not let yourself think such horrible things. Your father, Maria, and Finnian all love you dearly. As do I, but you belong on Earth. And alive."

"What can I do while alive besides be a burden to everyone?" I asked, lifting my head to look my mother in the eyes. I'm constantly in pain, and always need to be protected! I'm sixteen! I should of mire help than this!"

"Under certain circumstances, you are not an ordinary teenage girl. You are very special. And special people, I believe, tend to have harder lives than others. Please, child. Do not give up yet."

Mom's voice cracked at the end of her small speech, and she suddenly broke down sobbing.

I'd never seen my mother cry like this. She was always full of smiles. My first instinct was to hug her, but I couldn't. I couldn't get trapped here. I had something else in mind.

I stood, taking a few steps toward her. She looked up from her hands and looked at me like I was insane. "What are you doing, sweetheart? You will be trapped here."

"I'm not walking to you, Mom," I replied, tears beginning to wet my cheeks. "I told you: I've had enough."

She was up in a heartbeat. "Selena, please! Reconsider this! If you go there, you cannot escape! You will be there forever!"

"I know," I answered through a broken voice.

"Sweetheart, you are crying. You do not want this, I can tell."

I stopped walking. "I may not want this, but it's better for everyone else this way."

"Angel, you are just depressed. Leave this world, go back to the living. Enjoy the remainder of your life. For both of us."

I continued forward. "Dad will find you. Live for yourself."

"NO!" she screamed at me. "I won't let you do this to yourself!"

And with a wave of her hands, the world faded, along with the light that had seemed to be drawing me in, and my mother, looking sadder than ever.

***

I dreamt of my childhood. Playing with my parents, my mother grooming my wings, her death, finding my father after her death, and playing only with him a few months later. It felt like the real thing, but I knew it was only a dream.

I didn't want to wake up. I had wanted to never wake up again. Did my mother have some control over the world she was trapped in if she was able to cast me out with a wave of her hand? I didn't know, and I didn't want to find out.

I awoke with my eyes still closed to a horrible pain in my stomach and back. I was lying on a bed, but it felt like my head was in someone's lap. They were stroking my cheek, lovingly.

I could hear Maria crying, and someone else holding my hand. They all thought I was going to die, like I had wished. It pained me to hear them so upset. I squeezed the hand that was holding mine, and felt gloves on it.

Dad, I thought, tears filling my closed eyes.

I heard him sigh, and Maria stop crying long enough to ask what was going on. The hand on my cheek stopped stroking it, and rested itself on the bed.

"Sebastian?" Finny asked, his voice coming from above my head.

My father said nothing, only squeezed my hand in return. I gave a small smile as a tear escaped my closed right eye, and everyone in the room sighed in joy and relief.

They care this much? I had thought they would be fine without me, but I guess I had been wrong. At least I've found one reason to continue living, I thought with an inward smile.

***

I slept off and on for what felt like forever, and never once opened my eyes once I woke up, in fear that someone would be ecstatic about me waking and hug me to death while my wound was still fresh. The entire time I slept, I had crazy dreams, about my father, my mother, Finny, Maria, her ex husband, and even Ciel was in a few. I didn't understand why, but they happened. And they were so horrible, I remembered Finny's gentle yet urgent hands shaking me until I awoke and calmed down.

My father and Maria, from what I had overheard, had continued their search for my mother, and had gathered nothing except for the places that she isn't, which I guess helps a little, if you think about it.

On the day I decided to open my eyes, I made sure Finny was the only one in the room. It sounded, and felt, like he was lying next to me, flipping through a book.

I opened my eyes, and was hit with a wave of blinding light. I closed my eyes again quickly, and my right hand automatically covered my eyes.

I heard myself groan, Finny throw the book away from him, and sit up next to me. I pulled my hand away from my face and cracked and looked over at Finny, who was beaming.

"Glad to see you," Finny said happily.

"You too," I replied with a smile. "How long has it been?"

Finny thought for a moment. "Five days, considering its almost dusk."

I blinked. Five days? Really? It felt like much longer than that, but i was glad it wasn't longer, or else they might have given up on me.

"Help me sit up?" I asked.

"It might reopen your wound."

"Yeah, you're right." I yawned. "Maybe I should just go back to sleep."

"Alright," Finny said, almost with a sad smile. I thought he wanted to talk to me more, but he didn't want to force me to if I was tired.

I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. But I was so rested already, I didn't really want to.

Just as I felt myself drifting off maybe half an hour later, the door to the room opened. I woke back up, but kept my eyes closed.

Finny moved slightly, like he had jerked his head from me to the door.

"Quiet," he told them, who I assumed were Maria and my father.

"Anything?" Maria asked hopefully.

"She woke up," Finny said quietly, stroking my head lightly with one finger, as if he didn't want anyone else to notice.

Maria gave a muffled squeal, while my father sighed in relief. I heard footsteps, and then felt Dad holding my hand gently, happily.

"Then why is she asleep again?" asked another voice. A voice that sent chills down my spine. A voice that made me open my eyes and sit up. A voice that was worth having a few wounds reopened if I could figure out why it was there in the first place.

As I sat up, I ignored the pain in my stomach as the wound practically ripped itself back opened and I asked, pointing, weak and scared, at Maria's ex husband:

"What is he doing here?"