✯⋆ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏɴᴏʀ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜᴏ ⋆✯

✯ 🄿𝑹OLØG𝗴🆄E ✯

"𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑳. 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒐𝒏." 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆.

I had no reason not to believe it, because even though I was breathing, I was lacking in the other area of being alive.

But I had a feeling this was in a very literal sense.

Clutching at the muddy ground, I pulled myself closer to it, my disarray giving my tired body a much-needed adrenaline rush.

My hazy eyes could barely see what I was reading, just a dark jumble of shadows I recognized to have the same length and highs and lows of my name. I opted to believe that I was simply reading it wrong and that my eyes just needed some time to adjust to the darkness.

Rubbing away the dirt on the stone-carved letters, a perfectly timed lightning strike illuminated it, and I was forced to come to the reality that this was a gravestone with my name on it.

As my eyes finally adjusted to look through the slight rain, I could see that it wasn't rain at all, but it was a flurry of snow. We haven't had snow in May in years.

I brought myself to my feet, leaning against my gravestone to pull myself up when I noticed the gravestone next to mine.

"Phillip J. Coulson."

Except that one was real. The dirt still piled on top, grass sprouting from it, a light snow freshly coating it as I stared in bewilderment.

The winds whistled around me, sending a chill to my body. My shoulders tensed, blood rushing to my head as the hairs on my neck stood straight up when I could sense someone was near.

"Something really strange is going on," I said to the person standing behind me, in a shaky tone I tried my best to steady.

"Well, Meredith, it's gotten to be that way since the woman who died a year ago fell from the sky," He raised a gun up at me. "Who are you?"