Prologue

                                    

                                          
"We can't change the past. That's why we're buried in so much regret." 
                          
***
                          
My head is throbbing, so I can't really think straight as I sit up from bed, running a hand through my hair and letting out a deep sigh. I try to recall what had happened, yesterday, the night before. Ah, that's right, I think we were out celebrating. The surprise party for Jesse had lasted practically all day. Sunrise til' sundown. I think I drank one too many cups of fruit punch.
                          
I let out a halfhearted chuckle to clear my head, heading out into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Maybe later today I'll go hang out on the roof and spend a while admiring that rainbow beacon. I can promise I'll never get bored from that.
                          
I fill up a glass, but I find myself stopping, still in the living room. My hand grips tighter against the cool sweat of the cup. Wasn't there a couch here? I could've sworn we installed one a few days ago. I stare at the empty, dusty wooden planks on the ground, brushing away any bit of uneasiness threatening to bite.
                          
A yawn behind me makes me turn. Maya stretches her arms up in the air, her short hair bobbed across her shoulders.
                          
"Morning sleepyhead." I smile, finding a desolate chair and taking a seat, taking a sip of my water, my uncertainty forgotten.
                          
"Morning." She groans absently, before yawning again. "What's got you so chirpy?"
                          
"What, I can't be happy at nine A.M.?" I shrug, teasing. She looks at me as if I'm crazy, before shaking her head and looking for something to eat. I hesitate a moment, this morning is awfully gloomy.
                          
I sit there for a while in awkward silence, draining the water ever so slowly. I would try to talk to Maya, but she doesn't seem like she's in the mood. Like saying hello would kill her or something. 
                          
The doorknob jiggles suddenly, attempting to get in but failing due to the lock. Maya lets out a huff and gestures to the door, making me get out of my comfort zone.
                          
"Who is it this early?" I murmur to myself absently, the cup still in hand.
                          
"Go ahead and open it. It's probably just Gil."
                          
I freeze. Gil?
                          
That name rings bells in my mind, exploding like fireworks in my brain. Memories and memories pile up over and over and over again, rising up from the surface of that damned grave. My body feels tingly and numb, my hand tightens around the cup. She knows better than to mess with me. I'm practically traumatized, let me tell you, I still haven't recovered from his antics. Oh, and a very fatal arrow to the back.
                          
Knock, knock.
                          
"What did you say?" I whisper, voice unwillingly shaky.
                          
"Open the door, dummy. He probably went out for a walk." She exclaims blatantly. "Seriously, what's with you today?"
                          
KNOCK, KNOCK
                          
It gets louder, synchronizing with my heart beating harshly in my chest, the throbbing in my head. I can't move.
                          
"Aiden!" Maya's in front of me now, waving her hand in front of my face, annoyance and concern in her expression, before heaving a sigh and opening the door herself.
                          
"Wait, Ma-" the cup slips from my hand, water splashing aimlessly on the ground.
                          
"What the hell? You prick, you were there the whole damn time? How long does it take someone to open the door?" I lock eyes with him.
                          
No. No No no no no no. I saw his corpse. I felt his hand, his body. Dreaded cold, stiff, lifeless. The dull look in his eyes, staring at me from his coffin. We wished him farewell, from all the suffering. From all the pain. From all the blood. He can't be here. He can't be here after what he did.
                          
That bastard.
                          
But as I stared into those deep, empty eyes, I came to realize, that this corpse was very much alive.
                          
*****
                          
"Look, I know it's crazy, but you have to trust me." I exclaim for the thousandth time, following Jesse as she quickens her pace, trying to avoid me. After a few moments of cat and mouse, she gives in, sighing and turning to face me.
                          
"I know I let you guys in Aiden, but that doesn't mean I can just trust you on the spot. So please, get a grip." Her voice is firm, but those words sting. I can't forget, right now, she doesn't know anything. She's not the Jesse I knew. "You can't expect me to believe all that bullcrap. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? I knew you were cunning, but trying to accuse your friend of murder that hasn't even happened yet is absurd."
                          
I grit my teeth, how long is it going to take me to convince her? Believe me, I know I sound crazy, but I'm going to prevent this all happening if I can.
                          
"Come on, don't be stupid-!" I immediately regret the words as they come out of my mouth. Jesse gives me a fierce glare, leaving me somewhat paralyzed.
                          
"Oh, you're calling me stupid?" I forgot how much I feared her when she got like this. She stares at me dead in the eye, taking a step forward. "Maybe I should've let you rot outside. I guess this is what I get as thanks." She retorts, folding her arms across her chest. And just like that, I feel bad for her. I let out a breath, shaking my head.
                          
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone on like that, I just-" her expression changes, from frustration to shock in an instant. To my surprise, she tackles me to the ground, the force of the impact making my back sting. Just as she pushes me to the ground, something quick and thin whizzes by.
                          
An arrow.
                          
"Jesse, Jesse!" I try to shake her a little bit, her body falling limp on mine. "Are you okay?"
                          
Her hand weakly goes to her side, feeling it before bringing it up to her face, the slightest bit of blood on her fingers. She looks dazed, confused.
                          
"It barely..." she murmurs, voice growing quiet, "skimmed me..."
                          
She collapses, head falling on my chest, unconscious. Her breaths are short and labored. I feel sick, numb, weak. Oh Notch, it's happening again. I let this happen again.
                          
Gil.
                          
I carefully pry her off me and set her gently on the floor, a surge of anger fueling my strength. I can see the blood seeping through the opening of her clothes. Not much, but enough.
                          
"Gil!" I shout coldly. "I know it's you, come out you bastard!"
                          
A sound echoes from the arrow's origin. I race towards it, nothing but everything to lose. I still have no idea what the hell is going on, but I do know one thing: this is not the same as it was last time.
                          
I hear rapid footsteps getting softer, but I'm unable to follow. The sight in front of me practically makes me gag.
                          
It's Gil alright. Except this time, he's not the shooter.
                          
He's the target.
                          
Lying on the ground, body shaking, weeping, in his own pool of blood.