Chapter 3

"I dreamt about her last night," said Ben quietly Rege, standing in the corner of the church, near the stairs.

"Shit man. What was it?" Came Rege's surprisingly interested response.

Ben looked through the gap in the concrete ceiling to a clearing where all the stars where visible. The empty branches from the dead trees made an imperfect circle around the whole, limiting the visibility.

"It was when me and Erin where coming here the first time -- right after you found it. It was all the same as reality. Down to the last detail. But I started to follow her and, well, I, fuck, couldn't move. It was like my feet where fucking glued to the ground." Ben pulled out a cigarette.

Rege walked to one of the remaining 7 rotten pews still standing and sat down. He gazed around the old church.

"When is everyone coming?" Ben inquired.

"I lied. It's just me and you tonight. We need to talk about her. I knew you wouldn't come unless it was important. Well, Eric is coming tonight. But that's it."

"Well when the hell is he supposed to get here?"

"I don't know. The night is young. We'll find out sooner or later."

"God damnit, Rege! Why the fuck didn't you just tell me? You know I would have come anyways. Jesus Christ."

"Stop whining Ben, it doesn't suit you." Rege tossed his cigarette butt onto the podium, where the Holy Bible had once sat. Once.

The inside of the building was completely lit by candles, giving it an eerie bluish glow when mixed with the moonlight. The midnight air was cool and quiet. Not even the grasshoppers could be heard.

Ben sat down on the pew behind Rege and pulled out an old and tattered crimson red notebook from the underside. He opened it, produced a pen and began writing.

"I'm waiting for Eric to get here. Rege is here, apparently it's something so important only Eric and myself can hear it. I don't know why. Rege has been acting strangely calm ever since Erin died. I don't know why. Everything has gotten very confusing, and it's confusing the cops too. The cops still haven’t released an official certificate of death. Which means they still don't know what killed her. I want to know. The question eats at my mind every waking moment, and every moment the question multiplies by a thousand.

But I digress.

I want to how she died because it's important to me. I can tell myself that it's the headaches that make me want to know, or just plain human curiosity. But it still can’t change the real reason I want to know --"

"Hello Ben, Rege."

"Hey Eric," said Rege.

Ben looked up and saw Eric and Rege shaking hands.

"So why do you want us here?" Asked Eric, swiping long strands of his brown hair behind his ear, exposing his dark brown eyes.

"First thing's first. We have to make her a memory here."

Ben and Eric both looked at Rege with deadly serious, understanding eyes.

"She was a light in our group. She was the glue that held us together, the light among the darkness, blah blah all that cliché' shit. What the fuck ever. It became cliché' for a reason, I guess. The point is, she deserves this. Whenever we needed her, shit man. You guys remember when Jack killed himself? Of course you do. But fuck, the point is, I don’t think a lot of us would be here if it weren't for her. She really was the angel of our group, if angels come to us." Rege stumbled on his own words, grasping at something meaningful to say. Even in the dim moon and candle light, one could see the tears forming in his eyes.

"We deserve to know what really killed her. We deserve to know the truth. No more lies from the cops, no more 'natural causes' bullshit. We deserve to know why out motherfuckng angel is six feet under. Ben, Eric, I'm afraid we’re going to have to bring in the possibility that-" Rege wiped his eyes - "that this wasn't an accident. I think he's back."