3 years later...

It's 5pm.

The party starts in an hour.

I sit in my room, staring at my soccer player costume. It's really old, but I haven't grown much in the past three years. I lean against the wall, sitting on my bed. I get down off of my bed, then I feel that same lump of fear and sadness rise up in my throat. I steady myself and take three deep breaths. It doesn't go away.

Picking up a tennis ball, I sit with my back against my bed and bounce the ball off of the opposite wall. Each time, I hit the wall harder until the ball goes flying up in the air and lands three feet in front of me. I need to think. I need to focus and get rid of the rush of sadness that's been plaguing me for the past three years.

Today is the three year anniversary of Jacob's death.

I haven't celebrated Halloween for the past two years. On that day, I would sit at home in my room, wishing that the sounds of the doorbell ringing and Stella's scream would stop replaying in my head.

Tegan decided to throw a party for Halloween one last time before college, in memory of Jacob. We're supposed to wear our old costumes. I can't believe that my costume still fits. I tried it on yesterday and cried for two hours afterwards.

I still can't get the image of the bloody scythe shining in the moonlight out of my head. It's been three years.

I hear a knock on my door. It's my mom. I don't open it. Instead, I pick the tennis ball back up and continue bouncing it off of the wall. "Emma, you'd better get going if you're going to that party," my mom says. I continue ignoring her. "Emma, it's been three years." Her words ring in my head.

"Three years ago today. Three years since my best friend since birth was killed by one of us."

"Oh, c'mon, Em, you don't know that..." my mom scoffs.

"Fine. Either one of my friends killed him or he jumped after I had an argument with him and basically told him to stop being my friend." I can feel my face scrunching up as if I'm about to cry, and my voice going hoarse at the end of my sentence.

"Or he fell," he mutters. "You were all drunk. Emma, c'mon. It has been three years. You have to forgive Tegan. He didn't do anything."

"He might have," I mutter. I change into the shirt and shorts, hesitating before trying the tennis shoes on. I don't take out my french braid. I open up the door, smiling at my mom. "I'll go. But if I say I want to go, it means I want to go. Please pick me up then," I say. I turn around, seeing her still standing at my door. "I'm sorry about how I've been acting for the past few days. I know it was hard for you, too. But every October, it just feels like it comes back..." I sigh.

"I understand," she says, walking back downstairs.

I step out the back door, hopping on my bike. Jacob and I used to bike everywhere together, I start to think, but I push the thought away with tremendous force. This party is gonna be torture.

I arrive at the familiar grey-blue house after twenty minutes of riding in the dark, dodging small children. After that night, I never really talked to Tegan again. I formed a band with a couple of girls, and I joined a second band with two boys and one other girl. I continued sports, and made new friends on my sports team. I never really spoke to any of the people at the party again, despite the fact that i had been friends with Cadie and Jack. Tegan had been one of my best friends. I still don't understand what happened to Jacob.

I don't realize that I'm holding my breath until I ring the doorbell. I struggle to breathe, fiddling with my middle finger. It's an old habit of mine when I'm stressed out. I occasionally end up accidentally flipping people off.

Footsteps rush to the door, and Tegan swings it open. We stand there for a second in silence.

"I didn't think you would come," he whispers. I don't reply. We stand there for another thirty seconds. I can't look him in the eye. I just can't. He rubs his messy brown hair, glancing down at the porch. I feel tears threatening to surface.

"Maybe I shouldn't have," I whisper.

He hesitates. "I thought you were getting better. You were getting gigs, you were having fun, you were the star of your sports teams..."

"I know," I say, then I heave a sigh. "I just can't get that night out of my mind this week."

He nods. "I understand."

"Do you know who did it?" I ask. Fear rises up in my throat, and anger makes me clench and un-clench my left hand. He sees it, hesitating.

"No," he says. He seems more afraid than I am. "I have no clue."

I don't reply. He doesn't add anything on for a while. "Your band is really good," he says. I analyze him. I see a slight twitch in his leg. His eyebrows are raised an incredibly subtle amount in fear. 

"Thanks," I reply, able to relax a bit. I do need to get my mind off of Jacob. Every October, my mind and senses go into overdrive out of fear. I think over my every word before I say anything. "I've been practicing a lot. Adoette knows a lot of the guys who own the venues." Adoette is our bass player.

"Oh," he replies, unsure of what else to say. I try to force myself not to look suspicious. "Well, c'mon in. Jack, Adam, and Stella are already here." Of course Adam and Stella are here together, I think. They've been together for three years as of today. When Jacob pointed them out kissing... I feel my breath go shallow again as I step inside. I see Adam with his arm around Stella, and Jack leaning against the wall. 

"Oh, hey Emma. Nice to see you," Adam smiles. "I haven't seen you in years. The lump in my throat comes back. I smile politely and begin making small talk.

"How're you two doing?" I ask. Adam and Stella smile at each other, and Stella pecks him on the cheek.

"Awesome. How about you?"

"Great," Stella replies. "Have you gotten a boyfriend since Jacob?" she asks. What a stupid thing to say from such a stupid girl. It takes all of my self-restraint not to slap her, or at least make a snarky comeback. Thankfully, the doorbell ringing saves us. 

Cadie steps in the house, wearing her Hermione costume. She's the only one that I've talked to at all for the past several years. She walks up to me, slinging her arm around my shoulder. "Hey, Emma," she says, smiling. She continues to do small talk with me. I don't understand how easy it is for her to be so kind, caring, and easy-going with me, a girl who sh'es barely talked to in three years. She asks me about my band, my sports teams, my dog, and where I've been this year. Hailey arrives a couple of minutes later.

We hang out, laugh a bit, and eat some cookies for a few minutes. Then, the doorbell rings.

I count us. Me, Tegan, Jack, Adam, Hailey, Stella, and Cadie. That's all seven.

I glance out at who rang the doorbell through the curtain. It isn't a happy little group of kids. All I see is black.

Except for a glint of moonlight off of metal.