I sometimes wonder what I will be remembered for. Or if I will be remembered at all. Over the years, I have done little to ensure I am anything more than a shadow in the scheme of the world. For most of my life, I've made a conscious effort to hide. To be nothing. To fade into the background of everyone else's existence.

And while I have welcomed my role as nothing more than a slithering shadow with open arms, a part of me can't help but imagine what will happen when I am even less than that. I had no defining traits. I had no mentionable accomplishments. I had nothing worth remembering about me. I was quiet. Ghost like even when I was alive. Skittish and broken. As easy to discard as yesterday's newspaper or a chewed up piece of gum.

The thought made me sadder than it should have. I'd always been content to be what I was. To hide in the shadows of others and keep out of anyone's line of sight. But a part of me hated the idea that it would be the same even in death. I didn't think about it often. I try not to let my death be a ruminating thought. But at times like this, in a place like this, I couldn't help but let the question take over my mind.

My eyes jumped from headstone to headstone as we drove down the long, winding road through the cemetery. I wondered about each one of them. Who they were, how they died, who they'd left behind, and why they were remembered. I wondered who they'd loved, and who they'd wished they would have been. Graves stretched across the dying green lawns of the Brinley county cemetery, each housing another lost soul no one would ever see again. We were close to my mothers.

My heart was stuck in my throat, and try as I might, I hadn't managed to shake the feeling. I was nervous about seeing her. I wasn't sure why, considering she was just a slab of stone in a lawn now, but a part of me couldn't help but tremble in discomfort and anticipation at the idea that I was finally going to see my mom after all this time. She would be pissed if she knew I'd waited over three months to come and see her for the first time since her memorial. She would complain that not even her own daughter loved her, and that she'd been waiting too long for me to stop being a wuss and came to see her.

I could imagine the conversation we would have. Her hurling insults, and me just ducking my head and taking it. It was as vivid in my mind as if it had happened yesterday. A pang of sorrow shot through me at the thought, and I held myself back from diving deeper into it. My brain was hazy this morning. Empty and easily distractible. The rabbit hole was wide open. Tempting and dangerous, waiting for me to slip up and allow myself to fall inside with no possible escape. I'd felt it when I woke up, my brain filled with those damaging thoughts that always accompanied any and all interactions with my mother.

She'd always dominated everything. Down to the very thoughts in my brain, she would always rule over every inch of my existence. Her and Marley. Though, in very different ways. They had always been the dominating forces in my life. They were the reason I was what I am today. Every piece of who I am. They were both the best and worst parts of my personality. And I couldn't decide if I hated or loved them for it. They'd given this to me. This pain, this anger, this sadness, this indecision. It was their doing, and in some ways, in equal parts. My mother had been making me question my existence since it began. She'd never allowed me a place in the world to call my own. She'd wounded my brain too many times to count and given me this never ending need to please the unappeasable.

And I knew I should have hated her for it. No mother should treat their child that way. But on the contrary, I couldn't bring myself to hate her because she was my mother. The only one I ever had. And at times, the best one I ever had. Marley had made me question my existence too. When she left me, it cost me the only safe place I'd ever found in this cruel world. I was angry with her for leaving, and so sad that it hurt to think about. And a part of me hated her. Even if she hadn't intended on leaving me, she had. And that had hurt me worse than any insult my mother had ever thrown at me. It had consumed me for the first few weeks after her death.

Over took every inch of my being and crippled me like nothing else ever had. But eventually, I'd pushed Marley and all the anger I held for her towards the back of my head where I hoped it would rot and die off. But now, being here, seeing her after everything that's happened, the anger had returned, fresh and strong as it ever was.

A soft hand grazed over the bare skin of my elbow. If I had been more alert, I may have jumped at the unexpected contact, but in my dazed state, I didn't do more than tense under the fingertips against my skin and swallow a thick lump of emotion that had begun swelling uncontrollably in my throat. The hand moved upwards, gently tugging on my upper arm in an effort to get me to turn and give the culprit my full attention.

"Izzy, honey, look at me please," Logan urged gently, his tone as soft and careful as it might be if he was talking to an emotional toddler. Perhaps I would have minded more on another day. But today, I had nothing in me strong enough to be upset about it. I wasn't sure I had anything strong in me at all today. Slowly, I turned my body towards Logan, my face an empty sheet of emotion as I regarded my brother and his visibly worried expression. Logan wasn't good at hiding his emotions. He couldn't mask anything he was feeling, worry and fear least of all. It was written all over his face like a eulogy, a sorrowful expression of things he couldn't quite understand.

"Izzy?" He questioned in a whisper. The sound rang through the workings of my hearing aids like knives, slicing into the sore spot where they sat on top of my ear drum. Tyler had asked me to wear them. I hadn't argued. He'd said that it would make him feel better. He didn't care if it made me feel worse. But then again, when had anyone.

I pushed gently on the ringing pieces of technology to ease the ringing sensation the sudden noise had caused. Logan's eyebrows were scrunched in worry, his bottom lip pulled tightly between his teeth as he looked me up and down from head to toe as if he expected to see something on my face that wasn't there.

"Are you okay?" He asked so softly I barely heard him. I lifted my hand to sign something to him, but as if words themselves had left me, nothing worth saying came to mind. A shrug of my shoulders was the best I could come up with. Logan's frown deepened. He went to put his hand back on my elbow but I slowly pulled away, retracting into myself and away from his grip.

My skin felt hot being here. Like the overflowing emotions inside of me had turned to lava in my veins. I'd touched my face more than once since this morning to see if my skin was melting into a puddle without me even knowing. As far as I could tell, it wasn't. But I wouldn't be surprised if it did in a little while.

I saw Tyler's eyes flicker towards me in the rear view of the rental car he was driving. He had a look similar to Logan in his eyes, with a touch more understanding than our brother. I'd barely even looked at him all morning. But to be fair, I'd barely looked at anyone all morning. My mind was in another dimension today. And I was making no effort to bring it back. Reality doesn't bite so hard when you're not within its reach.

Tyler didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. What needed to be said could be done so without the expense of air from either of us. Any other day, I may have been wondering what he was thinking. I may wonder how he was feeling, or how he is taking this. But not today. Not now. Selfishly, even if I could know, I couldn't find it in me to care.

The last time I'd been here, almost three months ago, I had been a different person. A different entity entirely from who I was now. If someone had told me then, this was who I would be now, I would have called them a liar, simply because I didn't want to believe it could get worse. But that was a lesson I'd been forced to learn over the last few months. Things can always get worse. Even when it seems impossible.

"We're almost there, Izzy." Tyler said simply, turning his attention back to the road. I nodded curtly and looked back out the window, seeing the church mom's memorial service had been in. A moment later, the car slowed and came to a rolling stop in front of the section of graves where my mother resided. Her headstone hadn't been here three months ago.

I vaguely remembered Tyler telling me it had been put in place sometime after I got out of the hospital, meaning this was the first time I would see it. For a moment, no one made a move to get out of the car. We sat still as statues staring out the windshield blankly, each lost in separate strings of all consuming thoughts in our heads.

Then, without warning, Tyler inhaled sharply and shoved his door open, stepping out onto the grass within a second, as if he feared taking too long would leave him rooted to the car. Logan did the same on my other side. I didn't move a muscle. The door on my side was wrenched open and Logan watched me expectantly as he stood a few feet away, a strange look in his eyes that made me a little wary, and more alert than I had been almost all day.

"C'mon, honey. Let's go see mom." He whispered, not bothering the usual attempt at a grin. He held his hand out to me, and though my skin still felt as if it would ignite any second, I took it after a moment of hesitation. When I stepped out of the car and began allowing myself to be led forward towards where the site was, Logan leaned down to whisper in my ear. "I've got you, baby. You won't ever have to do anything alone ever again. Of that I can promise you." He pressed a sweet kiss to my temple, and the gesture was so kind and genuine, it would have brought tears to my eyes if I wasn't so blindingly numb.

Instead, I just slumped into his side and allowed the coolness of his skin to ease the burning of mine as he squeezed my hand so tightly, I thought it might fall off. But I didn't pull away. For once, I was sure I needed it as much as he did. When we reached the grave site, where Tyler was already standing, we stopped walking and broke apart. The ground was solid, the patch of dirt that'd been laid some months ago now frozen over in the cold December weather. The head stone stood stiffly at the head of the plot, the sleek black granite glinting in the sun overhead. My eyes traced the words engraved into the stone.

Work by word, my gaze lingered long on each letter filling my gaze.

Regina Marie Smith Beloved Mother, Daughter, Sister, and Friend.

Lies. All lies. Every word of it lies. Tears collected in the corner of my eyes but I blinked harshly to push them away before they could fall. I wouldn't cry over her. I wouldn't waste a tear for her now. I had learned just how useless it would be long ago.

I spared a glance in Tylers direction. My oldest brother looked hollow. Cold, and indifferent, regarding the grave as if it belonged to a stranger, not his mother. His arms were tight across his chest, rising and falling with short, shallow breaths.

I shifted my gaze to Logan. His eyes were glued to the stone with an odd, scrutinizing frown on his face. His body was tense and rigid beside me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat.

A cold wind whipped across my cheeks, as if it was the spirits themselves demanding my attention. I read over the words again. Allowed them to sink into the soft parts of my brain, willing them to seem more true then they were for my sake. She didn't deserve to be remembered as anything close to beloved. And yet, I found myself willing my own conscience to deceive me into believing she did.

"They did a good job," Tyler said after a moment, sounding detached and absent. "I wonder who paid for the stone."

"Someone who didn't know her very well, I would assume." Logan responded in an odd tone of voice. I ignored them both, not having a thought in my head worth communicating to either of my brothers.

Tyler hummed in agreement. "Must have been. Otherwise they wouldn't have bothered." They fell silent. A heavily blanket of emotion draped across the three of us as the quiet engulfed every inch of three of my mothers children. I glanced at Tyler's face once more. It had twisted from the coldness into something more pained, more broken. Tears welled in his eyes but he blinked them back before they could fall. I hated my mother at that moment.

More than I ever had, I hated her, for how much hurt she had caused in this world. She'd done it to my brothers, she'd done it to my sister, and she'd done it to me. And I hated her for it. I bowed my head in sorrow, wanting to give Tyler a moment without my prying eyes to feel the overcoming emotions I could see in his steel eyes.

Logan choked out a harsh laugh, shaking his head slowly. "Nine chances. She had nine fucking chances to get it right, and by the end, she still managed to fuck it up." His voice trembled a broken anger in his voice only someone you love could give to you.

"From the first to the last." Tyler muttered, sounding surprisingly steady. I nodded slowly in agreement, dropping to my knees beside the stone and placing my hand on the cold grooves in the granite finish.

"It's amazing how she managed to hurt all of us" I signed without looking at my brothers. We sat in silence for a while. But not my type of silence. The thick, heavily, soul crushing type of silence that makes you wish someone would scream just so it would break. But no one ever did. Eventually, Logan sat down on the ground beside me, Tyler crouching behind us. Neither of them attempted to touch the stone. I doubt either of them could even if they tried.

It felt like an eternity before any of us moved. Tyler was the first to stand up, shaking his head, his face morphed back into that blank, hollow expression of indifference. He swallowed hard before he spoke. "We should go. It's getting cold, and- and," He shook his head again, sighing with an almost indistinguishable tremble in his breath. "We should go."

I turned to face him, finally breaking my attention away from the stone. "I have someone else I'd like to see." I signed to him, swallowing a thick breath as I tried to shake the layer of emotion that had overwhelmed my senses in the last few minutes. I had to remind myself of my dual purpose being here today. It wasn't over yet. I couldn't be done yet. Not when she was still waiting for me. Waiting for me then, and waiting for me now. I'd come all this way, and I knew I wouldn't be able to breathe right until I saw her. Not that I was breathing right as it was. I never had been. But better. I would be able to breathe better.

Tyler frowned in confusion. "Who?"

A new lump formed in my throat. "My friend." My sister, my family, my life line, my rock. She was more than my friend. But I couldn't explain that right now. I could hardly understand it myself. His frown deepened.

"You have a friend in the cemetery?" He asked slowly.

The lump thickened to the point of blockage. I crossed my arms over my chest and nodded slowly. Logan put a gentle hand on my shoulder, his fingers gently brushing over my sweat clad skin in a way that, like always, was meant to be reassuring. "I'll go with you. Then we can leave," He directed the last part at Tyler, giving him a look that conveyed a secret message I didn't even try to understand. Tyler didn't say anything for a moment.

"Can I go?" I signed, knowing if the answer was anything but yes, I wouldn't be able to accept it.

Tyler nodded his head quickly. "O-of course. Of course you can. Take your time. I'll wait here." I nodded curtly and turned to walk away, Logan trailing behind me with a quiet promise to Tyler to keep his phone on for him. We walked in silence for a second as I let my feet take me in the natural direction of the grave site. I could feel Logan's eyes on me with every step. He pursed his lips as he followed me.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

I glanced at him quickly. "I'm alright." I signed untruthfully.

Logan frowned slightly. "No you're not."

"Are you okay?" I responded instead of answering him.

He shrugged. "I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"Are any of us?" He muttered lowly. I sighed and shook my head. "Who is your friend?" Logan asked after another beat of silence. It was my turn to shrug. "

My old neighbor. She and I were close."

Logan's frown sank a little at my words. "I'm sorry. How did she die?"

I sighed. "She was murdered."

It may not be what the law would call it, but it's what we all knew happened. She was killed in cold blood for nothing more than existing in the presence of a monster she thought she loved. Maybe that's why I was so afraid of love. I'd seen what it could do to a person. Or maybe it was just something inside of me that was broken.

Marley was in love with him. She'd told me herself when I asked her why she would stay with Thomas when he was such a controlling jerk. She'd laugh and tell me I'd understand when I was older. I prayed to god that I never did. That love, if it can even be referred to as that, was ultimately the undoing of Marley. And I had no intention of making it a pattern. Logan stopped walking for a second, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Murdered?" He asked quietly. I pursed my lips and I turned to face him, an unsettled feeling pitting in my stomach at the mere thought of it all. I hated talking about Marley. I had since it happened. I hated the way people looked at me when they found out, hated the questions they asked, the words they spoke.

The first time someone had asked me what happened to Marley I puked. Spewed every last drop of my stomach content onto the cement sidewalk I was standing on, feeling like I was choking on the words themselves as the images flashed through my mind like a horror movie on repeat. It was almost all I could remember from the few days after I'd found her. The rest was a blank slate I'd managed to fill only with the description of those days I'd heard in the courtroom months later, at Thomas' trial. But the details of it were few and far between, even Marley's funeral being erased from memory by the mind numbing trauma I'd endured. I swallowed hard as I nodded slowly at Logan.

"She was killed last year, right around this time. I want to see her." My brother's frown was deep and confused, filled with questions he wanted to ask and I didn't want to answer. He opened his mouth to say something, studying my face carefully, but ultimately shook his head and allowed silence to overtake us as we continued walking. The next time we stopped walking, only a few minutes later, we were mere feet away from the grave.

I could see it from here, the fake purple and green flowers I'd put there last September before leaving for Maryland that no one had bothered changing since I was the only one who ever bothered to change them for her, and the dusty looking gravel colored head stone her mother had been chosen for her sometime before I returned to consciousness. I could remember hearing her mom talking to mine afterward, complaining about the cost of the stone, despite it being the cheapest the funeral home had to offer.

I could remember the sick feeling in my stomach, leaning against the wall of our dirty apartment, listening to her mother degrade her even in death, claiming she wasn't worth the price tag they'd put on her. I had thrown up that day too. And even now, looking at it, thinking of all the times in the last three months I'd wished my best friend was there to comfort me, I felt the same sense of violent illness I had then. I turned to Logan once more.

"Can I go alone? I just want to talk to her." I signed slowly. Logan nodded without hesitation. "Go ahead. I'll be right here when you're ready." I smiled weakly and turned back towards the stone, taking a deep breath before propelling myself forward and marching my way towards the stone, worried if I slowed down I'd somehow psych myself out of doing this. It was harder than last time. Physically and emotionally it is more difficult to get there and face my best friend. But I had to. I knew I had to. I didn't have a choice now.

I dropped to my knees when I reached the stone. I traced over her letters like I had done to my mothers.

Marley Jacobs Daughter and Friend Forever In Our Hearts.

A generic, half hearted inscription that without a doubt was picked out of a funeral home binder by her mother while she searched for the shortest quote so she would pay for the least. It was more true than my mothers, I supposed. She was all of those things. Or she was all of those things to me. I couldn't think of anyone but me who could call Marley their friend. She was nobody in Brinley. A troubled girl who laughed too loud, smoked too much, and went to church too little. No one but me cared about her until she died. She was no one until it suited them for her to be something.

They didn't bother with her while she was alive. It's easier to sympathize with someone when they're not here to put in their two senses. With a heavy sigh, I let my head fall against the cold stone, not paying any mind to the way the stone dug into the skin of my forehead almost painfully. "I miss you," I signed to her, feeling pitiful at that moment that I couldn't find it in me to speak. I hadn't wanted to make a sound in months. I had stopped trying to force my brain to overcome the hurdle it had created after my accident months ago. I accepted it, and in some ways, even enjoyed it. But at that moment, I wanted it to be gone. I wanted to say something. Anything. But no words dared exit my throat.

"I'm sorry." I signed again, hoping she would somehow understand me if she was watching. It would be just like her to not speak the same language as me and still manage to understand every word I was saying. She would make it a game. See how many times she could guess what I was trying to say and laugh each time she somehow got it right. She would have made me feel better. She would have made everything alright.

I swallowed hard as I sat back on my heels and looked at her grave, dusting away some of the caked on dirt with the back of my wrist as I fought back another round of tears I didn't want to shed. Marley may have deserved my tears more than my mother but she certainly wouldn't want them. "I love you." I signed towards the stone, forcing a tiny smile.

A twig snapped behind me. I whipped around at lightning speed, fear pinching at my chest as I searched for the unknown entity. Logan stood behind me. An odd look over took his face as he stared at the stone.

"Marley Jacobs." He whispered her name like it was poisonous. I scrambled to my feet, my face turning red with anger and frustration that he'd invaded my space when I'd asked him for just a moment alone.

"I asked to be by myself." I signed at him. But Logan wasn't looking at me. He was staring at the stone intently, as if he feared it would run away the second he broke his gaze.

"Marley Jacobs." He said again, this time a little louder. I frowned in confusion, not understanding what was going on.

"Logan?" I signed his name, but he still didn't pay me any attention.

He took a step towards the stone, the odd look on his face morphing into one of realization and horror. I saw his throat bob with a thick swallow as he reached out and dragged his fingers over the letters of her name.

"This-this is your friend who was murdered?" He asked slowly.

I frowned deeper but nodded slowly.

Logan's face blanched. Another swallow. "How old was she?"

"18." My brother put a hand to his mouth in worrying shock as he almost stumbled back from the stone like it was on fire. "Oh my god," He muttered, walking backwards slowly.

"Logan, what's going on?" I signed frantically. He glanced at me and the look on his face became so intense it was almost scary. He shook his head.

"Oh my god." He turned on his heels, stalking off towards the car so fast I almost couldn't keep up. When I caught up with him after a second, I grabbed his arm to get him to stop walking and stepped in front of him so he had to look at me.

"What is going on?" I signed quickly, desperately wanting to understand. But Logan just stared back at me without making a sound. But by the look on his face I could tell that something was very, very wrong.

This world is full of defining moments. Times that shape you as you are and change you for the better or worse. I have had my fair share of these moments over the years. Many more than someone my age should have.

My life has been full of moments that changed me in in irreversible ways.

And rarely, was it ever for the better.

A/N-A bit of a shorter chapter but...a packed one for sure. Theories? Thoughts? Does anyone even care about this story anymore lol? My views dropped off significantly in the last few months and I'm sure it's because I haven't been updating regularly but just curious if anyones even paying attention to this story anymore. I'm gonna finish it either way but figured I'd check to see how everyone else is feeling

Sooooo like usual not a huge fan of this chapter but whatever it's ok I'll survive. Much like I'll survive the last couple weeks of school including finals. Also I just got my drivers license so that's so exciting and driving is so much fun. Anyway thank you so much for everyone who is still reading and supporting this story and I'll give you all a general update about the rest of my books soon once I know what I'll be doing this summer :))