Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Vacant and Stained
Part 17: The Day She Died
Third Person
Willow still had that horrible feeling deep inside her since she woke up that morning, and it lingered throughout the school day. It still bothered her when she was in Art class. Brandon wasn’t in Biology, and for that she was grateful, because he couldn’t bother her for the day. But she was worried; who knew what he would do to her or even Gerard. He’d want revenge; she knew that.
She dipped her brush gingerly in the black paint she was using, and brought it to her canvas. Her hand moved carefully across the material, eyes darting back and forth from her detailed sketch to the canvas. She wanted the tree to look just right. Willow then dipped her brush into a little white, mixing some black, then some blue, and created a smoky but dark blue. She ran her brush along the now dry black of her tree.
“Very good, Willow,” Mr. Paisley said from behind her, approving of her work. Willow smiled at him. “You know, once you’re finished, I think I’d like to put this in the display case, if you don’t mind.”
She gave him another smile, and nodded in agreement. Mr. Paisley smiled, and then proceeded to go around the room looking at other students’ work. She went back to carefully working on her tree, but only two minutes later did someone else speak from behind her.
“It’s lovely,” His voice said softly, making her shiver. She already knew who it was; it always seemed that he popped out of no where.
Willow craned her neck, meeting Gerard’s eyes. He smiled admiringly at her simple but refined tree. Gerard always liked her artwork; she was amazing at it. It was another quality, he thought, that made her eccentric.
She smiled appreciatively at him. Despite her dejected mood, his comment made her stomach have butterflies. Gerard sat down across from her, with his own canvas and paints, and started to trace carefully from his scaled sketch. Willow didn’t mind him sitting with her; she didn’t have the energy to care that day. She was just tired, so they both painted in a comfortable silence.
“You know,” Gerard said quietly, as he worked. “We should have another snow day…just us maybe…and the twins. We can go sledding if you want…” He looked up at her with sparkling eyes.
Willow sighed, and gave him a tiny grin. She liked the idea; the twins absolutely loved him, and Cassie was developing a crush on the black-haired teen. Willow thought it adorable, and knew that it would pass eventually. She didn’t, however, want to admit to herself that she wanted to be around Gerard. Willow had grown to love his company despite their situation, loved his voice, his smile. She just liked being with Gerard Way.
And Gerard liked…no, loved being with Willow Adams.
The school bell rang, interrupting their quiet work. Students packed up their supplies and cleaned their work areas as did the two teenagers. Both were reluctant to leave their table, wanting to continue their artwork…and to be in each other’s presence. Gerard watched Willow from the corner of his eye as he put his sketchbook in his backpack, and sighed to himself. He could never get with a girl like her even if he tried. She was just too beautiful, he thought, and wondered how such horrible people can be so mean to such a beautiful girl like Willow. The world, he thought to himself, was a cruel place.
Gerard picked up his backup and Willow did the same, and both left the classroom.
“I’ll text you later,” Gerard said softly. She nodded with a smile, and he grinned in return. “Bye, Willow!”
She waved and he walked towards the front doors to the parking lot. Willow let out a tired sigh; the long day had finally passed, even if it had left her feeling like absolute shit. She reminded herself that it was now the weekend, and she could sleep in, and they only had to go to school for three days of school the next week since there was Thanksgiving and Black Friday.
The halls were almost empty, apart from Willow and a few lingering students and teachers. She went to her locker, ignoring the ripped little pieces of paper that still clung to her locker, and put some textbooks inside so she’d walk home with a lighter back. She stood there for a few minutes, looking in her neatly organize locker, and she felt the urge to just slip and shut herself inside from the rest of the world. That feeling that had resided in her since that morning made her want to do that, as if it could help shelter her from what was to come.
Willow closed her locker, and walked down the hall. She stopped short when she opened the door to the school, and swallowed hard.
She felt something in the air. It felt bad…no, not bad…dangerous? But what was so dangerous?
Willow tilted her head up to look at the sky, noticing how the clouds had darkened more since that morning. She knew that she would be caught in the snow if she didn’t hurry home. Willow carefully walked down the stairs, her heart rate increasing with every shaky step. After taking her last step, she let out the breath she was holding in.
Relax; she told herself, you’re fine.
The parking lot was nearly empty; a shiny and well-kept black Mercedes was also parked in the far corner. She decided it would be best for her to cross through there as a shortcut. She walked along the side of the school cautiously, and through the parking lot. Willow had almost made it one-fourth of the way when she stopped suddenly. She felt dizzy; that awful feeling in the pit of her stomach was now getting to her. The wind blew furiously, making her shudder.
Willow turned quickly to her left when she suddenly heard the sound of gravel crunching. She stood still, listening for any other sounds. Her breath came out in short, careful bursts.
It was when she almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice filled with malice say,
“Hello, Willow.”
She was thrown against the brick wall before she could turn around, and was then hauled to her feet by two pairs of arms. A hand forced her chin up, and she met the cruel blue eyes of Brandon. Two of his followers held her by the arms with a rough grip, and she started to shake within their grasp.
Brandon leaned in close to her face, and look in his eyes truly scared Willow. She couldn’t tell what it was…Hunger? It was a malicious hunger; that’s what she realized it was. And the hunger he had in his eyes…she feared for what it was…who it was for.
“You made a big mistake today,” Brandon seethed. “You’ve made so many mistakes this month. Little…pathetic…mistakes.”
The grip around her arms tightened, causing her to wince in pain. Had they not been holding her up, Willow’s shaking legs would give out from underneath, and she would curl into a small fall.
“You can leave, guys,” He nodded to them. They left quickly, almost as if they were never there in the first place.
He turned back to her, putting his hand on her shoulder and gripping it tightly. He looked at her with the same hungry, cold eyes. He looked up past Willow’s shoulder, where brick walls formed a cubicle around a dumpster. He smirked, and pulled her roughly by the shoulder and dragged her towards the brick cubicle. She winced from the pain Brandon inflicted on her shoulder, and leaned towards the other direction away from him. She tried to wiggle from his grasp, but he was strong. Willow tried to pull away, trying to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground, but her shoes scraped along the pavement.
Brandon had started to become irritated with her resistance. Before Willow could even look up, he swung his arm around, colliding his fist into the side of Willow’s head. She stumbled, dazed and her head pulsing with pain. Brandon took her by the arm and hair, pain searing through her scalp as he dragging her inside the brick cubicle. He threw her onto the ground, and she landed on top of her wrist, scraping some skin. Brandon swung his leg back and sent a blow to her stomach, just for good measure. Willow’s mouth gaped open, and she tried gasping out in pain, but couldn’t even make a sound.
Brandon kneeled down beside her, hissing into her ear, “I’m going to make you hurt, Willow Adams. I’m going to make you suffer like the little disobeying slut you are…”
She cringed, sinking deeper into the ground. Part of her screamed to kick him and run as far away as she could, but she stayed there, too frightened to move. She didn’t understand what was starting to happen until Brandon forced his slimy, dry lips onto hers. She moved her head to the side, but he roughly turned his head towards his.
Her heart thumped painfully in her chest as he pressed down on top of her, and she whimpered. His hands started to move across her body, every touch rough and malevolent. Willow could hear her heart in her ears as Brandon started to move his hands up her shirt, his fingertips pressing into her skin like hot irons as he pressed down into her ribcage caustically, sure enough to bruise the skin.
She squirmed from under him, and he moved up to look at her with annoyance and anger. Brandon raised his hand, hitting her across the face as she whimpered from pain.
He took her face with his hand and growled, “Fighting will only get you no where. Do you want me to hurt those friends of yours? Want me to hurt those fucking emos?”
Willow’s cheek hurt, and her stomach lurched at the venom in his voice. She shook her head; she couldn’t bear to see them hurt because of her.
Brandon sneered, throwing her back to the ground where her neck and skull scratched against the pavement. “Good.”
Willow laid there, the pain in her body making her unable to move a muscle. She lied there hopelessly on the ground as Brandon took control. Tears trailed down her face as he tore her clothes off her body, leaving her bare and freezing against the hard ground. Her heartbeat grew louder and faster when she heard the sound of a zipper and fabric going down.
Oh, God, she thought. Please don’t let this happen to me. Anything but this, I don’t want this!
But nothing could stop what was about to take place. Nothing could help her. She closed her eyes, and sobbed silently as she felt pain hit her. She could taste blood with every hit Brandon inflicted on her. Her arms were scratched and bruised, her back bleeding in spots where it scratched against the pavement. She tried to scream, she really did, but no one could hear her screams. Pain pulsed between her legs as Brandon cruelly invaded her body.
The movement stopped. It stopped as soon as it started. Brandon got up and fixed his clothes, satisfied with his dirty work. He looked down on Willow’s shaking, bare body as she laid on the ground in a fetal position. Tears stained her cheeks, and she shivered from the cold. Brandon walked up to her, nudging her stomach with his foot. Willow flinched and he chuckled. He arched his leg back, and sent a blow to her stomach. Her mouth gaped open from the pain, no sound coming from the back of her throat; she coughed and a bit of blood poured out of her mouth.
“Later, bitch,” Brandon said, turning his back on her and walked away.
Willow laid there, dazed and not a thought in her mind. She was cold, and hurting. Every time she took a breath, her chest tightened with pain. All she could think of was one word: why. Why…why…why? It burned in her mind, just wondering why this happened to her.
She moved her arm, gritting her teeth has her muscles began to hurt, and pushed herself off the ground. Willow picked her clothes up, and blindly put them on. When she was done she sat there, staring at her hands. The air grew colder as the clouds moved in. She sighed, getting up and picking her backpack up.
Willow walked out of the brick cubicle, her footsteps heavy. The wind picked up and she shivered. She made it through the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. Brandon’s black car was gone, but she didn’t notice; she didn’t notice anything, just how much her body hurts. She didn’t pay attention to where she was heading; her mind was blank. Snow started to fall lightly on the ground, and melted on her face. She turned down an unfamiliar corner of the street and kept on walking. The wind blew harder against her thin, weak frame, and the snow grew into bigger tufts and fell heavier.
The sky grew darker, and the snow soon made it harder to see. Willow’s body grew colder, and the cuts burned from the wind. She was so tired, just tired from walking and the pain with every step. Her legs felt heavy, as if they were made of lead. Willow’s eyes fluttered and her knees hit the ground. She coughed, and let out a shaky, faltering breath. She was just so tired, and decided to lie down on the sidewalk.
Her eyelids were heavy as she stared up at the dark sky. Snow fell and melted on her face, and made cool little puddles. Her breath came out in little puffs in the air. She closed her eyes, and soon felt the world around her darken, and the last of her broken heart faltered.
It was that day when Willow Adams had truly died inside.
_________________________________________________________________________
Gerard’s POV
The snow fell heavily against the windshield as I drove down the street. I could barely see from the grayish haze as the streetlights bounced off the falling snow. I hated winter, and the snow. A few times the tires slipped, making me hit the curb. Again, I slipped and hit the curb, swearing under my breath as I gained control of my car.
“Stupid piece of shit,” I grumbled under my breath.
I drove further down the road, the wipers scraping against the glass. My eyes squinted as I tried to see through the snow. Snow storms in New Jersey were the worst; you’re more likely for an accident, especially at night. Ten minutes had passed as I tried to drive carefully, and the snow had started to make it a little easier for me to see outside.
It was then did my eye seem to catch something on the side of the road. A huddled figure, partially covered in snow was splayed across the sidewalk. I slowed down, curious yet frightful of what it was. I parked by the curb, and shut off my engine, stepping out of my warm car and into the frigid air and immediately pelted by heavy snow flakes. I cautiously walked around the side of my car, and approaching the figure.
My heart rate suddenly picked up, and my eyes widened as I realized who it was.
“Willow!” I croaked out, and quickly made way over to her.
I brushed the snow off of her, and grew horrified as I saw scratches and bruises on her neck and arms. There was dried blood on her lip and chin, and her lips were blue. Her skin was cold where I touched, and grew afraid of her chances of frostbite. She was unconscious and didn’t stir. I put two fingers to her neck, silently praying that there was a pulse; I sighed in relief. A light but faltering pulse was still going.
Her backpack was by her side, and I picked it up and put it over my shoulder. I moved my arms under her, picking her up and letting her head rest on my shoulder. I was shaking and carried her over to my car. I opened the passenger door and set her down carefully, her head lolling back on the headrest. I threw her backpack in the pack, and quickly made my way over to the driver’s seat. I fired up the heating when I got in, and shifted the gears and tried to drive fast but as safe as possible. My heart raced, and I took Willow’s cold hand in mine.
“Please don’t die,” I whispered.
Third Person
Willow still had that horrible feeling deep inside her since she woke up that morning, and it lingered throughout the school day. It still bothered her when she was in Art class. Brandon wasn’t in Biology, and for that she was grateful, because he couldn’t bother her for the day. But she was worried; who knew what he would do to her or even Gerard. He’d want revenge; she knew that.
She dipped her brush gingerly in the black paint she was using, and brought it to her canvas. Her hand moved carefully across the material, eyes darting back and forth from her detailed sketch to the canvas. She wanted the tree to look just right. Willow then dipped her brush into a little white, mixing some black, then some blue, and created a smoky but dark blue. She ran her brush along the now dry black of her tree.
“Very good, Willow,” Mr. Paisley said from behind her, approving of her work. Willow smiled at him. “You know, once you’re finished, I think I’d like to put this in the display case, if you don’t mind.”
She gave him another smile, and nodded in agreement. Mr. Paisley smiled, and then proceeded to go around the room looking at other students’ work. She went back to carefully working on her tree, but only two minutes later did someone else speak from behind her.
“It’s lovely,” His voice said softly, making her shiver. She already knew who it was; it always seemed that he popped out of no where.
Willow craned her neck, meeting Gerard’s eyes. He smiled admiringly at her simple but refined tree. Gerard always liked her artwork; she was amazing at it. It was another quality, he thought, that made her eccentric.
She smiled appreciatively at him. Despite her dejected mood, his comment made her stomach have butterflies. Gerard sat down across from her, with his own canvas and paints, and started to trace carefully from his scaled sketch. Willow didn’t mind him sitting with her; she didn’t have the energy to care that day. She was just tired, so they both painted in a comfortable silence.
“You know,” Gerard said quietly, as he worked. “We should have another snow day…just us maybe…and the twins. We can go sledding if you want…” He looked up at her with sparkling eyes.
Willow sighed, and gave him a tiny grin. She liked the idea; the twins absolutely loved him, and Cassie was developing a crush on the black-haired teen. Willow thought it adorable, and knew that it would pass eventually. She didn’t, however, want to admit to herself that she wanted to be around Gerard. Willow had grown to love his company despite their situation, loved his voice, his smile. She just liked being with Gerard Way.
And Gerard liked…no, loved being with Willow Adams.
The school bell rang, interrupting their quiet work. Students packed up their supplies and cleaned their work areas as did the two teenagers. Both were reluctant to leave their table, wanting to continue their artwork…and to be in each other’s presence. Gerard watched Willow from the corner of his eye as he put his sketchbook in his backpack, and sighed to himself. He could never get with a girl like her even if he tried. She was just too beautiful, he thought, and wondered how such horrible people can be so mean to such a beautiful girl like Willow. The world, he thought to himself, was a cruel place.
Gerard picked up his backup and Willow did the same, and both left the classroom.
“I’ll text you later,” Gerard said softly. She nodded with a smile, and he grinned in return. “Bye, Willow!”
She waved and he walked towards the front doors to the parking lot. Willow let out a tired sigh; the long day had finally passed, even if it had left her feeling like absolute shit. She reminded herself that it was now the weekend, and she could sleep in, and they only had to go to school for three days of school the next week since there was Thanksgiving and Black Friday.
The halls were almost empty, apart from Willow and a few lingering students and teachers. She went to her locker, ignoring the ripped little pieces of paper that still clung to her locker, and put some textbooks inside so she’d walk home with a lighter back. She stood there for a few minutes, looking in her neatly organize locker, and she felt the urge to just slip and shut herself inside from the rest of the world. That feeling that had resided in her since that morning made her want to do that, as if it could help shelter her from what was to come.
Willow closed her locker, and walked down the hall. She stopped short when she opened the door to the school, and swallowed hard.
She felt something in the air. It felt bad…no, not bad…dangerous? But what was so dangerous?
Willow tilted her head up to look at the sky, noticing how the clouds had darkened more since that morning. She knew that she would be caught in the snow if she didn’t hurry home. Willow carefully walked down the stairs, her heart rate increasing with every shaky step. After taking her last step, she let out the breath she was holding in.
Relax; she told herself, you’re fine.
The parking lot was nearly empty; a shiny and well-kept black Mercedes was also parked in the far corner. She decided it would be best for her to cross through there as a shortcut. She walked along the side of the school cautiously, and through the parking lot. Willow had almost made it one-fourth of the way when she stopped suddenly. She felt dizzy; that awful feeling in the pit of her stomach was now getting to her. The wind blew furiously, making her shudder.
Willow turned quickly to her left when she suddenly heard the sound of gravel crunching. She stood still, listening for any other sounds. Her breath came out in short, careful bursts.
It was when she almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice filled with malice say,
“Hello, Willow.”
She was thrown against the brick wall before she could turn around, and was then hauled to her feet by two pairs of arms. A hand forced her chin up, and she met the cruel blue eyes of Brandon. Two of his followers held her by the arms with a rough grip, and she started to shake within their grasp.
Brandon leaned in close to her face, and look in his eyes truly scared Willow. She couldn’t tell what it was…Hunger? It was a malicious hunger; that’s what she realized it was. And the hunger he had in his eyes…she feared for what it was…who it was for.
“You made a big mistake today,” Brandon seethed. “You’ve made so many mistakes this month. Little…pathetic…mistakes.”
The grip around her arms tightened, causing her to wince in pain. Had they not been holding her up, Willow’s shaking legs would give out from underneath, and she would curl into a small fall.
“You can leave, guys,” He nodded to them. They left quickly, almost as if they were never there in the first place.
He turned back to her, putting his hand on her shoulder and gripping it tightly. He looked at her with the same hungry, cold eyes. He looked up past Willow’s shoulder, where brick walls formed a cubicle around a dumpster. He smirked, and pulled her roughly by the shoulder and dragged her towards the brick cubicle. She winced from the pain Brandon inflicted on her shoulder, and leaned towards the other direction away from him. She tried to wiggle from his grasp, but he was strong. Willow tried to pull away, trying to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground, but her shoes scraped along the pavement.
Brandon had started to become irritated with her resistance. Before Willow could even look up, he swung his arm around, colliding his fist into the side of Willow’s head. She stumbled, dazed and her head pulsing with pain. Brandon took her by the arm and hair, pain searing through her scalp as he dragging her inside the brick cubicle. He threw her onto the ground, and she landed on top of her wrist, scraping some skin. Brandon swung his leg back and sent a blow to her stomach, just for good measure. Willow’s mouth gaped open, and she tried gasping out in pain, but couldn’t even make a sound.
Brandon kneeled down beside her, hissing into her ear, “I’m going to make you hurt, Willow Adams. I’m going to make you suffer like the little disobeying slut you are…”
She cringed, sinking deeper into the ground. Part of her screamed to kick him and run as far away as she could, but she stayed there, too frightened to move. She didn’t understand what was starting to happen until Brandon forced his slimy, dry lips onto hers. She moved her head to the side, but he roughly turned his head towards his.
Her heart thumped painfully in her chest as he pressed down on top of her, and she whimpered. His hands started to move across her body, every touch rough and malevolent. Willow could hear her heart in her ears as Brandon started to move his hands up her shirt, his fingertips pressing into her skin like hot irons as he pressed down into her ribcage caustically, sure enough to bruise the skin.
She squirmed from under him, and he moved up to look at her with annoyance and anger. Brandon raised his hand, hitting her across the face as she whimpered from pain.
He took her face with his hand and growled, “Fighting will only get you no where. Do you want me to hurt those friends of yours? Want me to hurt those fucking emos?”
Willow’s cheek hurt, and her stomach lurched at the venom in his voice. She shook her head; she couldn’t bear to see them hurt because of her.
Brandon sneered, throwing her back to the ground where her neck and skull scratched against the pavement. “Good.”
Willow laid there, the pain in her body making her unable to move a muscle. She lied there hopelessly on the ground as Brandon took control. Tears trailed down her face as he tore her clothes off her body, leaving her bare and freezing against the hard ground. Her heartbeat grew louder and faster when she heard the sound of a zipper and fabric going down.
Oh, God, she thought. Please don’t let this happen to me. Anything but this, I don’t want this!
But nothing could stop what was about to take place. Nothing could help her. She closed her eyes, and sobbed silently as she felt pain hit her. She could taste blood with every hit Brandon inflicted on her. Her arms were scratched and bruised, her back bleeding in spots where it scratched against the pavement. She tried to scream, she really did, but no one could hear her screams. Pain pulsed between her legs as Brandon cruelly invaded her body.
The movement stopped. It stopped as soon as it started. Brandon got up and fixed his clothes, satisfied with his dirty work. He looked down on Willow’s shaking, bare body as she laid on the ground in a fetal position. Tears stained her cheeks, and she shivered from the cold. Brandon walked up to her, nudging her stomach with his foot. Willow flinched and he chuckled. He arched his leg back, and sent a blow to her stomach. Her mouth gaped open from the pain, no sound coming from the back of her throat; she coughed and a bit of blood poured out of her mouth.
“Later, bitch,” Brandon said, turning his back on her and walked away.
Willow laid there, dazed and not a thought in her mind. She was cold, and hurting. Every time she took a breath, her chest tightened with pain. All she could think of was one word: why. Why…why…why? It burned in her mind, just wondering why this happened to her.
She moved her arm, gritting her teeth has her muscles began to hurt, and pushed herself off the ground. Willow picked her clothes up, and blindly put them on. When she was done she sat there, staring at her hands. The air grew colder as the clouds moved in. She sighed, getting up and picking her backpack up.
Willow walked out of the brick cubicle, her footsteps heavy. The wind picked up and she shivered. She made it through the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. Brandon’s black car was gone, but she didn’t notice; she didn’t notice anything, just how much her body hurts. She didn’t pay attention to where she was heading; her mind was blank. Snow started to fall lightly on the ground, and melted on her face. She turned down an unfamiliar corner of the street and kept on walking. The wind blew harder against her thin, weak frame, and the snow grew into bigger tufts and fell heavier.
The sky grew darker, and the snow soon made it harder to see. Willow’s body grew colder, and the cuts burned from the wind. She was so tired, just tired from walking and the pain with every step. Her legs felt heavy, as if they were made of lead. Willow’s eyes fluttered and her knees hit the ground. She coughed, and let out a shaky, faltering breath. She was just so tired, and decided to lie down on the sidewalk.
Her eyelids were heavy as she stared up at the dark sky. Snow fell and melted on her face, and made cool little puddles. Her breath came out in little puffs in the air. She closed her eyes, and soon felt the world around her darken, and the last of her broken heart faltered.
It was that day when Willow Adams had truly died inside.
_________________________________________________________________________
Gerard’s POV
The snow fell heavily against the windshield as I drove down the street. I could barely see from the grayish haze as the streetlights bounced off the falling snow. I hated winter, and the snow. A few times the tires slipped, making me hit the curb. Again, I slipped and hit the curb, swearing under my breath as I gained control of my car.
“Stupid piece of shit,” I grumbled under my breath.
I drove further down the road, the wipers scraping against the glass. My eyes squinted as I tried to see through the snow. Snow storms in New Jersey were the worst; you’re more likely for an accident, especially at night. Ten minutes had passed as I tried to drive carefully, and the snow had started to make it a little easier for me to see outside.
It was then did my eye seem to catch something on the side of the road. A huddled figure, partially covered in snow was splayed across the sidewalk. I slowed down, curious yet frightful of what it was. I parked by the curb, and shut off my engine, stepping out of my warm car and into the frigid air and immediately pelted by heavy snow flakes. I cautiously walked around the side of my car, and approaching the figure.
My heart rate suddenly picked up, and my eyes widened as I realized who it was.
“Willow!” I croaked out, and quickly made way over to her.
I brushed the snow off of her, and grew horrified as I saw scratches and bruises on her neck and arms. There was dried blood on her lip and chin, and her lips were blue. Her skin was cold where I touched, and grew afraid of her chances of frostbite. She was unconscious and didn’t stir. I put two fingers to her neck, silently praying that there was a pulse; I sighed in relief. A light but faltering pulse was still going.
Her backpack was by her side, and I picked it up and put it over my shoulder. I moved my arms under her, picking her up and letting her head rest on my shoulder. I was shaking and carried her over to my car. I opened the passenger door and set her down carefully, her head lolling back on the headrest. I threw her backpack in the pack, and quickly made my way over to the driver’s seat. I fired up the heating when I got in, and shifted the gears and tried to drive fast but as safe as possible. My heart raced, and I took Willow’s cold hand in mine.
“Please don’t die,” I whispered.
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