Young Writers Society

Emily jumped when the second girl spoke and almost lost her grip on gravity. If almost meant she fell off the tree.

She hopped back to her feet and extended her hand, "I am so sorry, I'm Emily. I just died. I'm pretty sure. Maybe not. You never really know, the way my life has been going. See, I had this friend one time who thought they died but they didn't and because of that they ended up in the illegal arms trade, but then they disappeared somewhere in Russia and were never seen again. It was a whole thing. Anyway, I know I just died because, well," she gestured to the hole in her dress, "This isn't exactly a papercut. Well, I've never had a papercut because I techinically died before paper was invented, but I digress. What's your name?"

It was coming back to her now. Alex with her two friends. One girl and one guy.
After Dave had been the first to die that night, after they'd gathered them all and tried to tie them up. He'd fought back, but it hadn't been enough. They'd tied up Charlotte and Margaret, except Charlotte had tried to escape. Alex's female friend had chased Charlotte outside, and Margaret heard her friends screams just as Alex had told her she too had to die. And Margaret remembered, in that moment, when she'd asked Charlotte to come on the phone and she'd been hesitant. This is all my fault. I made her come, she'd thought.

Ricky was barking and Alex's male friend had told her to shut up the dog and tell him everything was going to be okay.

Margaret squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to think on it anymore.

"It's mine," she said. "There were intruders in my house. Oh, I'm Margaret, by the way."

Eos stared. This Margaret had been murdered? He snorted. Wasn't that just like a human-killing like mad. His people were no different. Eos died trying to change them-Not that any of these humans would ever understand.
''You may call me Eos Zorina Altan.'' he introduced himself cautiously. ''I am a Zordaanian Warrior.'' His swords gleamed like fire in the sunlight as though empathizing his point.

A scream and a cry of protest died on the girl's lips.

The pain of dying had been unbearable. This was mostly unbearable now. Every inch underneath her skin felt like it had been set ablaze, and her heart felt the worst of all - it was heartburn at its finest. The girl gave a little smile at that pun. It was a pained smile, but a smile all the same.

"Q?" she asked, voice breaking a little as she squeezed the words out. You weren't supposed to survive an exorcism - you being both the host and the soul that was resting with the host's soul. Pain made sense, but it was still an irritating side effect of the exorcism.

Of dying.

The smile died on the girl's lips when there was no reply.

"Q?" she repeated. "Are you there?"

Nothing.

The girl bit her lip, then regretted the decision. More pain on top of the pain that she already felt. Was this what Hell was like?

No, this couldn't Hell. Hell was a prison, or Hell was the realm of demons. This was something else. The girl would know if she was really there. But this wasn't the afterlife she had been promised. Where was he?

"God," she croaked, "this really isn't funny!"

A string of swears left her lips.

She tapped her foot on the ground, shifting her weight just enough to feel the broken rib pushing up against her lungs. That was nice. She turned, almost out of habit, to complain to Issac, but then realized with a growing sense of dread that Issac wasn't going to be here for a very long time.

Tears welled up behind her sunglasses.

Stupid, stupid Q. Stupid tear ducts, stupid emotions, stupid hormones that weren't normally part of the equation. Everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong, and there was no way that she could ever make this right.

The girl wiped her tears with the sleeve of her oversized leather jacket, even as they stubbornly continued to fall. She had heard voices in the distance before she started cursing the one who was supposed to make dying okay, and they seemed like her best bet to figuring out what was going on.

"We're going to make it through this, Q," the girl whispered. "I promise."


"Vil," he simply offered, raising an eyebrow at the warrior's introduction and snort. He might have been treating Margaret's death with a supposed lack of empathy, but he knew enough not to make fun of her death with a snort.

His gaze dropped back down to his injury.

"I was killed in a fight," he said. He didn't elaborate on his injury. He wouldn't have, even if the girl hadn't walked into their impromptu meeting with a grimace on her face.

"Hi," the girl said, a pained smile on her face. "I'm guessing you're all dead, too?"

''More or less,'' Eos responded with a shrug. He was getting used to humans suddenly showing up. After a moments thought he added with a wry grin, ''And this is your new paradise. Lovely isn't it?''

"Yup, though I wouldn't call it a paradise pre se," Emily chirped, "I was finally put to rest, I guess is what they say, whoever 'they' is. Though I don't feel like I'm resting." She frowned, then perked back up and dug around in her bag, reaching in further than the bottom of the bag seemed to go to produce a handful of candy bars. She offered them to the group, "Any of you want some?" she asked as she used her free hand and her teeth to tear open one of the wrappers.

Eos stared at the candy bars as though they were poison, and slowly backed away from Emily.
''No'' he responded his eyes wider then ever. ''I uh...'' he coughed. ''Just no.''

Emily looked a little confused, but shrugged, "Anyone else?" She took a bite from hers. The chocolate was a comforting bit of home, whatever 'home' meant anymore. Home could be chocolate itself. Candy. Why not? It was the only constant in her life-er-death.

Margaret took a bit of chocolate without saying anything. She loved chocolate. Her mother made chocolate cake all the time when she was younger, and she ofter

It tasted sweet. "Where did you get the chocolate?" She asked.

"I've always got chocolate," Emily responded cheerfully.

Vil didn't take the offered chocolate. He just shook his head and a muttered a quiet no. He would have once been excited at the thought of free candy, but it was hard tasting sweet foods these days.

The newcomer, on the other hand, wasted no time in walking over to the younger girl. She eagerly took three of the offered candy bars. In the back of his mind, Vil thought that was more than a little rude, but the girl didn't seem to mind. She hummed a little tune underneath her breath, leaning up against the tree as she unwrapped the first bar in her impromptu feast.

Emily grinned at the girl who took the extra candy bars. There was someone with a sweet tooth.

"Livin' on a prayer?" Emily asked after a moment of deciding what the girl was humming, "I love that song! When it came out I'd listen to it all the time! What's your name?" She realized the girl had arrived after introductions.

"What's that song? I've never heard of it," Margaret said. She'd only taken a little bit chocolate to be polite, but when she saw the other girl take three bars, she helped herself to more.

Eos watched the others talk and eat in silence, his gaze trained on his red sword. He gently touched it's blade, admiring the fine craftsmanship. He sighed. It seemed like ages since his father had first given it to him as gift and here he was, stuck in an afterlife. Before Eos could stop himself a small tear streamed down his face.

The chocolate suddenly didn't taste as good.

Not that it had to begin with - the sensation of burning from the inside out wasn't really good for savory sweets. But the girl kept munching on the chocolate. She was stubborn, and eating the chocolate with no clear benefit just felt right. Issac and Q would have been berating her for it, and she would have eaten it regardless of the stomachache she would probably get later.

"I'm Quinn," she said, giving a small smile. It was a good impression of Q, if she did say so herself. Q hated giving her last name. When this was all over, and things got better - if they got better - Q needed to be liked by the people here.

Her gaze traveled over to the woman who had spoken. "You haven't heard Livin' on a Prayer before?" she asked, an incredulous tone to her voice. "It's a classic."

The boy with the strange golden eyes just silently observed the conversation.