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In less than an hour, Will is back with the Granger's in tow. I hug them both as they cry on my shoulder. Felicity looks just like her mother. I've seen pictures of them together before, but the resemblance in person is scary. They could be twins, born twenty years apart.

I need air. I have to get out of this room. I'm going to start crying if I don't get a moment alone so I excuse myself for the night. They promise to call if she wakes up. I give them my key to the house and the address in case they want to get some rest. I know they won't show up. They probably won't leave her side until she's awake.

Will offers to come in and keep me company but I want to be alone. Opening the front door, walking into the silence that is waiting for me, is more than I can handle. I'm exhausted, but I need to run. It's the only time I feel like I'm not alone.

I change and slip on my shoes. I stretch for a few minutes on the deck before taking off down the beach. I don't push myself. I'm barely running. I stop after only a few yards and drop on the sand. I watch as the wave’s crash against the shore in the moonlight. It's beautiful and I wish I had someone to share it with.

My mind wanders to Luke. I'm sure James called him and told him the news. I'm sure he'll come home to lay his brother to rest. I'll be seeing him soon but for the first time since he left, I don't want to.

I call Felicity's parents before attempting to sleep to see if there's any change. She still hasn't woken up. The doctors came in and checked on here after I left. They spoke to the doctor about her condition and her chances. They seem to be optimistic at this point. Her body is healing. Their main concern still is whether or not she has any brain damage and they won't be able to tell until she wakes up.

Sleep eludes me as I toss and turn for hours until I finally give up. Every time I close my eyes I picture Elliot. His face is bruised and battered. He's bleeding and screaming for help. I can't remember the man he used to be. I can't remember the boy I grew up with. That's who I want to remember. I don't want my last memories of Elliot to be of today, of this accident.

I rummage around in my closet until I find what I'm looking for. It's been a year since I've opened it. The last time I even thought about it was the day Felicity and I cleared out the spare bedroom for Elliot. I set it on my bed and reach for it with shaky hands. My favorite pair of Nike's use to be in there. Those have been gone for a long time. Now, the contents are more personal. I remove the lid and Elliot's face greets me with a smile.

I flip through picture after picture of the two of us, setting each one aside to look at the one behind it. The bottom of the box is full of paper folded into different shapes, most of them triangles. Notes Elliot and I use to pass back and forth to each other in school. I spend a few hours reliving some of the most interesting moments of our childhood.

There was the time Elliot told everyone that we were dating, even though he had a girlfriend. It caused a stir for about ten seconds until she showed up and put the kibosh on his tall tale. The next one was just a picture he drew of one of our teachers. Algebra I think. She was an odd woman. The notes had plans for the weekend, dirty secrets about his girlfriends and inside jokes that are no longer funny. An inside joke is only funny when you can share it with the only other person who will understand it.

The pictures are my favorite. There's prom. I didn't go, but Elliot made me put on a nice dress and take pictures with him. The Maroon 5 concert Elliot took me to for my birthday our senior year. Tons of pictures from our weekly trips to the beach in the summer. Elliot's random girlfriends appear and disappear throughout the stack. The very bottom picture is of James, Elliot, Luke and me when we were little. The four of us are covered in dirt. I don't remember what we had gotten into, but there's a huge smile on all of our faces. Whatever we had been doing must have been fun.

The good ole days. Back when life was simpler. Our biggest issue was not being able to think of anything fun to do. I miss those days. I miss my friend.

I load everything back into the box. As I'm putting the lid back on, something catches my eye. There's a picture taped to the inside of the lid. A picture of the three of us. I'm in the middle, the boys on either side of me. It was taken the afternoon Luke kissed me before it happened. Elliot's girlfriend at the time took it for me with my camera. I'm not sure if I ever showed the picture to either of them.

THERE ARE FIVE stages of grief. Stage 1: Denial. I'm pretty sure I skipped that stage. It feels real. The situation was very black and white. I still hear Mrs. Evans screams sometimes when I close my eyes.

Stage 2: Anger. I'm angry at the man who ran the red light. I'm angry that the doctors weren't able to save him. I'm angry that it took so long to get him out of the car. I'm angry that I have to attend my best friend’s funeral. I'm angry about a lot of things, but I'm not in denial.

Stage 3: Bargaining. Either I haven't gone through this stage or I'm going to skip it. I know that nothing will bring him back. If I could find a way to do it I would but I'm too much of a realist to think that I could barter my way out of this.

Stage 4: Depression. I'm pretty much living this stage. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to move past it. I feel like I'm gasping for air sometimes when I start to think about Elliot.

The last stage, Stage 5, is Acceptance. Not. Going. To. Happen. In a way, I have accepted that Elliot is no longer with us but I will never accept that he's gone. He'll live on in my heart and the heart of everyone who knew him forever.

Even Will seems sad about the loss of Elliot. He's been hanging around a lot lately. I'm thankful for the company, but my hearts torn. I'm not in a good place right now. It's only been five days since the accident. Felicity hasn't woken up yet and Elliot's funeral is tomorrow. I can't handle anything else in my life right now.

I know I told Felicity that I was going to give this one a shot, but I don't think I'm going to be able to do it after all. I need his support to get through this, but I'm concerned about his expectations for once things start to settle down. For instance, last night I had a moment. I big one. Felicity's mom called and asked me to come to the hospital. She was crying so I instantly assumed that something bad had happened. After I hung up with her, I had a panic attack.

I couldn't breathe. I sat down and put my head between my knees and started to cry. My entire body was shaking vigorously. That's when Will showed up.

He helped me through it. He comforted me and drove me to the hospital and stayed with me while I visited Felicity so that the Grangers could have a break.

My concern is that it didn't take much for me to freak out. The bigger issue right now is that it took even less for me to calm down. Will's hand caressing my back. His words comforting me in a way that I'm not used to. He's a rock and right now that's exactly what I need. I need someone to be my rock.

I'm headed up to the hospital again tonight and I'm going to stay until morning. The Grangers have barely slept since they arrived. Neither have I, but I haven't been living at the hospital as much as they have. I try to sleep, but I can't. I close my eyes and picture the worst. I hear Mrs. Evans screaming. I hear Elliot and Felicity screaming. Then, I wake up screaming. I wake up in my empty house, all alone.

James is having the same problem. I talked to him this morning about the arrangements for tomorrow. He asked for pictures of Elliot. I pulled the box back out of my closet and gave him every picture I had of Elliot. I had a picture of Elliot, Felicity and I that I had framed a few months ago. I took that off the wall and gave it to him as well, the frame and all. It's the least I can do. It's the only thing I can do right now.