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"This is Detective Jackson. We have some bad news. We found Wendy."

Ava's blood ran cold. Bad news... Wendy... Any warm fuzzy feelings she was getting from the conversation with Patrick immediately disappeared. She swallowed the lump that began to form in her throat. "A-and?" She prompted with a shaky voice.

"We would rather you come down to the station to talk about this."

Ava nodded, knowing he couldn't see, but the words just wouldn't come out of her mouth. Silently she switched lines, going back to Patrick. Still unable to speak, she just sat there, taking in the sound of his breath and the bits and pieces of background noise from the after-concert party.

"Ava?" She jumped at the sound of his voice. He could probably hear her breathing, too. "Are you there?"

She took a deep breath before answering, hoping her voice wouldn't come out as weak as she felt. "They found Wendy."

She could almost hear the cogs turning in his head, trying to decipher her state by the sound of Ava's voice. "And?" He finally asked. "Where is she?"

"I- I don't know. They wouldn't tell me on the phone. They want me to come down to the station." Ava did her best to hold back any tears that threatened to show up. She had no idea how she had been able to cry so much within the past week and hoped that her tears had finally dried up for good. How wrong she had been. "I'm scared to go, Patrick. I don't want to go if they're just going to tell me she's dead."

"Oh, honey..." He started, obviously not knowing what to say in a situation like this. "You have to go, you know that."

"But what if she's... you know?"

"Ava, even if she is, you are her best friend, you have to go. You have to be strong for her."

Ava groaned, knowing in her heart that he was right. Maybe Wendy was fine. That could be the reason they were calling her to the station instead of making a home visit. Even though these excuses came easily, she somehow knew in her heart that that just wasn't the case this time.

"Okay." She whispered. "I guess I'll talk to you later then."

"Um, Okay then." He knew she had to go but he almost sounded sad at the same time.

Ava held her breath, "Patrick?"

"Yeah?"

She blurted out the next bit as fast as she could before changing her mind. "Can I have your number again?"

"Sure." She could almost hear the smile in his voice, making the heavy weight that had been settling over her disappear slightly as he rattled off the numbers.

"This time I programmed them directly into my cell, so unless I lose that then I'm pretty safe from leaving it somewhere again."

He chuckled. "You have a cell?"

After giving him her other information they said their goodbyes and hung up. Ava took a few moments to get dressed in something presentable, but it struck her as odd that she didn't know what to wear for bad news. Green for good luck? Black for grieving? Ava sighed and threw on her closest grey hoodie and her most comfortable pair of jeans then headed out the door.

The drive to the police station was not a long one but she still felt out of place driving her rental car. It was newer than her old one and every time she hit the gas it seemed to shoot forward at the slightest touch so she ended up barely moving at all just to be safe. Ava told herself that her slow driving was NOT because she was nervous of seeing the policemen, but deep down she knew she was just delaying it. Her gut feeling was not a positive one- and her feelings were almost always dead on.

She stood outside the police station for at least ten minutes, just staring at the door, wondering what fate lay in store for her. Finally, a man exiting gave her a questioning glance, opening the door for her to enter. That gave her no choice but to walk up to the front desk, giving the closest officer her name and who she was supposed to see.

"He'll be with you momentarily."

Ava nodded, not sure where to sit down. The lobby was filled with people in handcuffs, so she did her best to find a seat near the least threatening- a pregnant woman in her mid thirties. What was she going to do if Wendy was dead? She would be all alone. And she was only twenty-one. Twenty-one year olds are never supposed to lose their best friends. It was like an unspoken rule.

Her heart skipped a beat as a police officer began walking toward her. Grasping her purse tightly in her hands she prepared for the worst, but instead of addressing her, he spoke to the woman sitting next to her.

"Mrs. Carter?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Yeah?"

"You are being charged with the attempted murder of your husband. If you would just come with me to get you booked..."

"Whatever." She groaned, standing to follow the officer.

Ava slumped down in her seat. She was a terrible judge of people, apparently. Out of all the people in the room she chose the murderer. She should not be allowed to make any sort of decision... ever.

After a few more moments of wondering what everyone else was charged with, a plain clothes officer walked into the room, holding a thick file under his arm. Ava immediately knew this was Detective Jackson. He was probably pushing forty, balding, and getting a little thick around the waist- not the 'bad cop' persona. Ava was slightly relieved, even though she knew she wasn't here for any infraction against herself.

"Miss Lemmings?" Ava nodded. "Follow me please."

She stood, following him through the maze of desks to a room off to the side. Once inside the room she noticed there was one sided glass against one wall, kicking her blood pressure up another notch. The good detective must have noticed her reaction to being in an interrogation room because he quickly attempted to relieve her anxiety. "Don't worry, no one is back there. I just wanted some privacy in discussing this matter."

"Um. Okay." Ava hated that her voice was so shaky.

He motioned to a chair for her to sit in, and she followed his silent instruction without complaint. He took the chair opposite her, opening the file and flipping to the first page. "I'll just get to the point, Miss Lemmings, your friend, Miss Harden was found dead this morning in a barn just east of the city."

Ava stopped breathing.

He pulled a picture from the file, laying it directly before her. It was Wendy all right. She was sprawled out in a pile of hay, cuts and bruises covering her face and arms. Her eyes were half closed, but it was obvious that there was no life left in them. Across her neck was an inch thick burn mark. She was strangled to death. Detective Jackson confirmed this just moments later.

"She was strangled with a rope; we found it at the scene next to the body."

Ava clamped her mouth shut with her hand. Wendy was dead.

Oh god... Wendy was dead.

Wendy was dead.

Ava felt her world stop. In that exact moment nothing else existed. Not her. Not the cop. Not even Wendy. It was as if her life was void of everything. Everything and everyone. She didn't even notice that she had stood up, walked through the door and retraced her steps to outside the station, but instead of going to her car, she just kept moving. She had no idea where she was going, or what she expected to find, only that she couldn't be / there /. That place brought death.

The wind whipped through her hair, chilling her all the way to the bone, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything anymore.

Wendy was dead.

She didn't want to believe it. Her heart cried out that there was no way Wendy could be dead. Someone with that much life just couldn't go away that quickly. Wendy was the type of girl you just thought would live forever. She had brains, beauty, and an amazing man wanting to be with her. She had everything... and now she had nothing. She/ was/ nothing.

Wendy was dead.

Ava kept walking, the numbness starting to wear away to strikingly painful feeling. She was so hurt inside. So alone. So sad. The cold burned into her hands and face, but instead of wishing the pain would go away, she embraced it. She deserved the pain. She hated herself for being the person to send Wendy out to her car that night. If only she had been the one... if only she had remembered her camera in the first place. This never would have happened... her best friend would still be okay.

Wendy was the one who deserved life. Ava had nothing. She was a failed writer with no future prospects. It should be her laying in that pile of hay beaten and bloody.

Ava barely felt the tears rolling down her face... Barely heard the siren approach beside her... the firm hands griping her arms, lowering her into the back of a car were no more than a dream... or at least that was what it felt like. Blinking quickly, Ava tried to wake herself up. This has to be a dream. A nightmare, but still a dream... something like this couldn't happen in real life.

Ava felt like she was drowning. She couldn't breath, and the more she tried, the dizzier she became. Darkness began to circle her vision, threatening to blacken out this dark world she was now living in, but instead of fighting she welcomed its relief. At last the blackness washed over her, taking everything that was bad away with its presence.


*

Ava had no idea where she was when she finally awoke. An IV bag hung empty by her bed, but the largest clue was that everything was white. White for sanitary. She was in a hospital of some sort. Pulling the metal stand with her, she stood and crossed the room to an armchair filled with her things. Careful not to pull out the needle in her arm, she began to dig around, looking for her cell phone. Finally she found it in the very bottom of her purse.

Sitting on the end of her bed she dialed the first number.

"Hello?"

"Matthew?"

"Ava? Are you okay? It's like two in the morning." His voice sounded raspy, like she had just woken him up.

"She's dead, Matthew." She knew she was crying, but there really was no point in trying to make it stop. It would probably never stop for as long as she lived.

"What?"

"Wendy's dead."

"I don't believe you."

Ava fell back onto the bed, curling herself into the smallest ball possible. "It's true. I don't want to believe it either, but it's true."

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Okay, I feel like this chapter needs an explination... I was really afraid to put this here all on its own because its so... well, depressing. But it needed to be done... had to be done. I almost put the next chapter up here with it just to show that it is not always so sad, that way no one gets frustrated with the depression and stops reading it, so... as soon as I get a few reviews, I'll post the next chapter. I keep it written about two in advance, so I can do it as soon as possible. I love you all for your great reviews in the past... thats why this chapter was so scary for me! (Ahhh!... afraid to push add story!!!)