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Annie had been reminded once again that a broken heart and being dead were not mutually exclusive. She had witnessed horrific things in the last three years, but nothing had prepared her for watching her best friend and confidant die at the hands of another close friend. What made it worse was the knowledge that it was the right thing to do, only she was not sure who for. Within seconds, the semblance of a normal life the four of them had built for themselves was over.
Life had resumed its course, though, as was evidenced by bursts of laughter coming from the kitchen. Annie, who had been lost in thought gazing out of the living room window, turned around at the sound, a small smile crossing her face.
"Hey guys, what are you up to?", Annie shouted in the general direction of the kitchen door and started walking towards it, curiosity written all over her face. She stopped short inside the kitchen's swinging doors, her left hand keeping one of the doors open, as her eyes took in the scene unfolding before her.
Standing by the stove with a tea towel thrown over his shoulder, George was busy talking to Nina's stomach in a silly babyish voice. Nina was laughing at his antics all the while trying to shove him away from her, a mild look of exasperation on her face. It only took a few seconds until Annie was shaking with laughter as well, not even aware that her face was wet with tears.
It had been a tough couple of weeks for them, weeks where neither of them had felt the slightest impulse to smile, only this prevailing feeling of a gaping hole that only someone close and loved could leave behind. George's decision, one no one ever should have to make, had spared Mitchell a life as someone else's attack dog, ready to kill whenever and wherever deemed opportune, in an endless loop of violence, guilt and death. It would not have been a life, only a curse impossible to break.
It had been a close call for Annie just a couple of days earlier as she was facing once again that door, her pathway to the other side. With Mitchell gone, it seemed she had fulfilled whatever had kept her on this side of the door for so long. It was tempting, just leaving all of it behind: the silence in the house that was becoming more and more unbearable, the guilt and anguish written across George's face, the relief mixed with regret and shame on Nina's face, and her own indescribable feelings of loss, grief and longing. It had been a beautiful day that day, the total opposite to how it had looked inside her mind as Annie was taking yet another walk along one of the city's largely deserted beaches without so much of a glance at the beautiful scenery.
And there it had been, her door, coming seemingly out of nowhere. Tempting, calling for her, with promises of a world behind its threshold where hearts would not get broken anymore. She had been ready to take that final step, but just as she was about to walk through the door, she had noticed movement out of the corner of her eye, some kid running and waving at the squawking seagulls. In hindsight, she couldn't say what had caught her attention, not that it mattered how and why, only that it had happened.
Nina had survived Herrick's attack, and her unborn child along with her, reminding all of them again about life's fragility. Together they had faced down one of the Old Ones, even though still reeling from what had transpired just a matter of seconds ago. "I think you'll have a fight on your hands," George had said, and she and Nina were mirroring his words with every part of their bodies. Not so long after, though, there had not been much fight left in them. Instead, despair and heartache had taken its place and soon two more ghosts could be seen walking the streets.
The kid on the beach had reminded Annie that life and death lived in close proximity, that there in fact was something, someone to look forward to. She would never be able to give life herself but she could fight for the life that was about to begin, alongside its parents who had been alternating between happiness, aversion and fear ever since they had found out about it and the possible fatal consequences. They needed her, just like she needed them, and together they would be a force to be reckoned with. She had powers, some of varying reliability and some yet to be discovered and mastered, but Annie would make sure they would work to their advantage.
So Annie had turned away from the door once again, making sure any residual feelings of doubt and uncertainties were left behind for good. She had chosen another door instead, one that had been real and led her home. It had not been easy in the beginning, but together the three of them had found their way back to each other. Feelings of mistrust, guilt and fear had been giving way to a renewed sense of belonging and friendship. After some redecorating and new splashes of colour, their new-found home had begun to reflect these feelings as well; instead of dark, gloomy walls and furniture about to fall apart, the rooms felt warm and safe again.
In the kitchen, all three of them were soon howling with laughter and clutching their sides, with no attention paid to the boiling kettle or the tea towel that had slipped from George's shoulders and was about to catch fire on the stove. The silly antics had not really been that funny to start with as they had been run into the ground long ago. Not that it mattered. They were still dealing with the aftermath of Mitchell's death and they were facing an uncertain and dangerous future, but for a moment, life and all it entailed felt damn good.
