Twenty second of November was as dreary as it was meant to be. I look at the snow on the sidewalk, hitting the paddle as I ride down the road. The cold air hits harsh on my cheek, and I curse when the newspaperman almost gets knocked over. What a misery it would be! Then half of Chesterville would have to run all the way to town to talk about Trump, Oil, and Russia. I let out a sigh, trying to ignore the tingle growing in my nose. My legs stop kicking hard, when I spot the redhead in the distance. A forced smile, the always there freckles, and her thin skeleton of a limb waves back at me as I hit the brake.

Isn't she feeling cold? A cashmere sweater won't do for all the cold we are going to get this season. Unfortunately it's not only the cold, there's always more to it. I shake off the thoughts when the petite amber walks over.

"Going to visit Bianca, Marley?" She asked, and I move my head sideways. What good it will do if I tell her? None. So I decide against it. Some things were meant to be done alone.

"Good. She doesn't deserve to be visited. That slut!" She said, and certainly my cheeks were flushed, palms drawn into balls, and self control on the edge. Calm down, Marley. Calm down. My breath turns erratic and I stare in her green eyes. The first thought that hits me is how could she not know?

"She is your sister, Jesse." I said, keeping my voice cool, hoping she would stop.

"You mean was ..."

They all do that. Judge her for things they don't even know she did. But that's what the rumours are for! Leave it all upto the school snobs to ruin a person's reputation. Living or dead. They didn't even know her enough to call her that!

"Nevermind. I have places to be, and you won't like to wander around in that!" I said, pointing to her half buttoned sweater.

"You know what they say..." She said, shrugging and I raised an eyebrow. There's more to the stupid rumours?

"I am hot, Marley. I don't catch cold!" She said, smiling that half ass smirk that she picked from the other girls. Thank God, B. isn't here.

"Good luck explaining that to your boyfriend when you sneeze into a frencher." I said, letting out a sigh. That did the trick. She hurriedly buttoned up the black buttons, almost cocooning up in the fabric as the realisation hits her - She isn't that hot.

I take the cue to leave, hitting the paddle again when I heard her scream behind my back.

"Don't go near the cemetery. Mayor said it's haunted." So she wasn't as stupid she seemed. Jesse was standing out in the cold to warn me? Well, that wasn't a first.

I didn't turn around. There was no going back from this. I gasp for air as my legs hit harder on the paddle, taking the view of snow clad cars, and people on the streets when I turned to the road that lead down the cemetery.

I prepared myself for the worst. No matter what they say, I will find the truth.

My legs freeze when the gate neared. Gulping the lump in my throat, I searched for the stone. How I hoped I never had to! But there it was, a little corroded, but still visible. Bianca Montgomery.

I walk to the stone, sitting mindlessly, staring into the ground, hoping she would pop out of it. Not a logical wish, I know. But I was dying to ask her what happened that night? Wasn't it just yesterday when we were gossiping about boys, nail paint, and dick jokes? How come she left without a word?

I reached for the packet of Oreos and laid it on the stone.

"Listen fucker! I know you are playing dead, but it's been four years and I brought you banana Oreo. So get up. I am still a virgin, and I need you to tell me how to lose it! You get it?" I said, hoping the tears stinging in my eyes won't fall. But they do. That bitch will always make me cry!

"Get the hell out of there kid! That ain't no opera!" I heard a scowl and turned around to find Old Marty. The keeper of the tombs. Or whatever shit his job title is. Quick question, is that even a job? Who the hell pays him?

"Have a heart, old man!" I said, wishing he would just leave me alone.

"And what makes you think I don't?" He asked, and I scrunched my nose. He wore this ugly brown fur that reached his ankles, and his utterly ancient black boots had a hole in the left ensemble. A dead giveaway that he was not paid what the mayor promised him. Maybe hunt for better jobs? But that would be weird. Not seeing his angry frown when you visit the grounds, and his frequent 'abominable' bombs whenever the ladies would refuse to buy him a drink. Easier said than done...Marty was irreplaceable!

"I am having a conversation with my friend!" I said, and he shakes his head.

"That girl's dead, Mason. You know what they call her! No one visits her. Not even her family." He said, and my tears became heavier, sliding down my cheek and I wondered whether they'd freeze if I cried longer. Would they?

"It doesn't matter what they call her. She is my friend." I said, and my voice cracked. Fuck. Not now. Calm down, Marley. Calm down.

"Are you okay, kid?" He asked, looking worried, and I searched my pockets for the inhaler.

I pulled the inhaler close to my mouth. How could I just not die already? When I could breathe easy, I turned to the old man, glaring at him and he left me alone. Abominable! He muttered as his boots struggled against the snow.

I could count the number of people who had convinced me what Bianca was, and what she did. But I don't believe a word they say. All I have to do is find the boy who was there that day. The boy with the dragon tattoo. If the asshole hadn't left the town!

"I will find out the truth, crack head." I said, burying my knees to the ground. I will find out the boy who knows it all. Tears flow down my cheeks as I collapse.

Twenty Second of November had nothing good for it to be remembered at all.

"Time to leave kid."

Old Marty was back in his element. A rusted shovel mounted on his back as he walked the grounds with seed packets in both his hands. So, he does gardening too?

"But, I just got here!" I complained, not giving in that easily.

"I can only pretend I didn't see you here only when it's less than ten minutes. Beyond that, I either call your mom, or Dr. Johnson. You know the drill!" He said and I mentally slapped myself. Fuck. Now the whole town knows.

This day. Four years ago. Everything changed. I was nearly convinced nothing could go more wrong after dad passed in the car accident. But when I made friends with the new kid in school, I had little idea that fates would twist the threads and here I was.

"Fine! I will leave!" I said, scowling back at him as he started digging the dirt.

I reach for my bike, hopping on the seat, and as I hit the paddle again, my eyes stay glued to the stone. Until next time, then...

Chesterville wasn't much of a hulla-bulla in winters. A part of it is because no one actually cares moving out of the warm duvets, and there was enough corn in the barn to last that season. Not much of a fuss. By the time I spot the shabby cottage in the middle of nowhere, decorated with fairy lights, I half expected one of the Montogomery-s to show up. But I guess they weren't the exception to the rule. Of all the places in Chesterville, they had to have a house where no one dare set a foot at night. Sounds like something only Jesse's mother would come up with.

Taking the cue that I won't be seeing Mrs. Montogomery's cookie baking floral apron, with her fiery red curls struggling against the muffled bun, I don't knock and hit the paddle. The hellos could wait till the next session, or so I thought.

"Ah! If it isn't Marley!" I heard the familiar voice, turning around to find who other than Mrs. Montogomery's sister. And my therapist- Dr. Johnson.

I take my time, gawking at her as she practically wrapped herself in all white fur, and the only thing visible for what I would call her face was her small nose, barely holding her glasses up. Chances were she could get lost in the snow with that coat, never to be found again.

"It is!" I finally said, hoping she'd let me pass.

"And why are you still standing in the cold! Come on, in. Fiona's baking those cookies you like!" She said, trying to make it to the porch and I followed her.

"Though, they are for Christmas, she wouldn't refuse you!" Dr. Johnson winked as she turned the door knob.

I had a hard time figuring out what exactly Dr. Johnson had in Chesterville. She was a Harvard pass out, and if anything, she could do well if she offered her services in the town. Still, she wouldn't budge. When I asked about it she would go on telling me how it's all rat race and that pure bliss starts with family...whatever that means.

When the door turns open, the familiar scent of chocolate hits me and I knew Dr. Johnson wasn't lying about the cookies.

"Marley...You didn't tell me why you were here in the first place!" Dr. Johnson said, and here I thought she'd forget.

"Oh-I- I was running some errands!" I said, and she eyed me suspiciously.

"Your mom didn't know where you were, but I guess it's sheer luck I found you!" She said, her voice quirky and she seemed really pleased for a winter morning.

"Mom? You were at our place?" I asked, and she nodded.

"I got the letter from Weston! They are thrilled with the scores you got...and guess what?" She said, and I stared at her wide eyed.

"You got accepted." She said, and I thought I had lost it. Today of all the days? What luck!

"I can't believe it!"

"Me neither!" She said, and I couldn't bother feeling offended. No one who had seen me gone berserk after Bianca passed would expect me to go to Weston High. It was a tough interview. Three interviews precisely. And they asked all stupid sort of questions. 'In three years, where do you see yourself?', 'What if we don't have dress code at schools?', and the list was long and tardy.

"But our sessions will continue. Your academics don't decide how mentally stable you will be, Marley." She said and I nodded.

The pills, behavioural therapy, rehab tips...I had been through all. If it weren't for Dr. Johnson, I wouldn't make it this far. That's how everyone at Chesterville saw it. I couldn't agree more.

"Hanna! Did you bring the syrup-" I heard the two notes shrill voice, and my eyes landed on the iconic floral apron.

"Marley!" Mrs. Montogomery squeaked as her eyes landed on me.

"Oh god. You have gone paler than I last saw you. Come, I have fresh batch of cookies!" She said, taking me by my arm and I looked at Dr. Johnson to hell me deal with the sudden outburst of motherly affection, but Dr. Johnson being Dr. Johnson, only shrugs and next, I was seated in Montogomery's dining table with a plate of chocolate chip cookies staring back at me. Wow.

First thing's first. I am not pale. I am not the splitting image of what people call 'healthy', but I was not pale! I had dirt brown hair, stupid big brown eyes, and a round face. Features that I wasn't proud of (if it doesn't make it so apparent).

"Go on. Help yourselves!" Mrs. Montogomery said sitting across the table as Dr. Johnson sat beside me.

The Montogomery-s were nice and kind. I don't say it out of courtsey. After that incident four years ago, I didn't expect them to invite me, particularly today, and have this friendly cookie biting talks. Nope. On the contrary, I was baffled to see how friendly Mrs. Montogomery was with my mother. They had been together through Bianca's passing away. I couldn't figure out how I was bearing with it. That's Dr. Johnson's job, though.

I took a cookie, biting it as the chocolate melts and the sugar gives me the high I missed. Delicious. I don't have to worry about the bitter stuff. I will just enjoy the sweet for the time being. I let out a sigh.