Scars {Completed}

Chapter Thirty-One

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Kenzie's POV

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I walk over to Mark, and try to put my hand on his shoulder, only to find my hand go through him.

" I told you, you don't exist." Isabelle repeats.

"No, what you said was that I died." I say, frustrated.

"Well, that's true too." She admits.

"But it doesn't make any sense!" I snap.

With that, I hear Mark sniffle, and take in a deep breath.

"Mark...? When is Kenzie waking up?" I hear Ron ask from the doorway.

Mark gestures for his brother to come closer, "Kenzie... She's with Grandma and Grandpa now." Mark says quietly.

"But Gram and Gramps died..." Ron argues, sitting on the bed, next to the 'dead' me.

Mark just looks up at Ron and nods.

"No... No! Kenzie can't be gone!" Ron breaks down, tears flowing down his tiny face. "Kenzie! Kenzie, wake up and tell Mark you're joking," Ron cries, shaking The Other Me's shoulders, "Kenzie!! Wake up!" He sobs.

"Ron, she's not going to wake up." Mark admits quietly.

"Please Kenzie, please..." Ron pleads.

Tears had unknowingly made their way down my face, "No, no this isn't how it's supposed to end! I'm not supposed to die!" I croak, wiping the tears away.

"Oh, but it is. You've wanted to end your life for a while now," Isabelle says, "now it's ended."

I just shake my head in denial, "I'm supposed to die in a car crash, or in some accident. Not because some bitch wants to murder me!" I cry.

I look up to Isabelle, waiting for a reply, but all she does is give me a smile, and with a snap of her fingers, we're not in the hospital room anymore.

I look around me, and notice tombstones.

"You're going to show me my gravestone?" I sniffle.

"Turn around." She instructs.

I obey, and gasp at what I see.

It was people. Rows and rows of people. At the front of them all, lay a casket.

I walk down the aisle provided, and notice some familiar faces.

My parents sat in the back, my father hugging my mother as she mumbles to herself, and cries.

A few rows up, sits Nataly. Her beautiful brown eyes, puffy and red from crying, and tear streaks staining her tan olive skin. She sniffles, and more tears make their way down her face.

I avert my eyes, and see Mark. He's not sitting down though. He's standing at a podium, in front of everyone.

He clears his throat, and takes a deep breath before speaking.

"I will not tell you our love story, because-like all real love stories-it will die with us, as it should. I will, although, tell you about her. She was amazing, no- amazing is the understatement of the century; she was breathtaking. In more ways than one. People in this day and time, are obsessed with leaving a mark upon this world. She, on the other hand, was not. She would do what she wanted. She would lived life how she felt it should be lived.
She was insecure; I will admit that, but she did not turn down compliments. She would take them with pride and joy. When you're around her, you don't worry about trying to be better than her, because either; 1) she'll be better than you, regardless, or 2) she'll have a snarky comeback in mind when you beat her.
I really wanted to say something deep and meaningful about her today, but I couldn't pinpoint what to say... When I think of her, just one word comes to mind; Perfect." He pauses, trying to get his uneven breath to calm down. He notices people giving him sympathetic looks and he just inhales a sharp breath,

"I'm okay. And she's okay too." He smiles to himself weakly.

And with that, his bottom lip quivers, and he stops.

I don't know if that's all he had written, or that's just as far as he got.

He turns around, and looks down in the casket.

I walk beside him, and look at what he's looking at, and am taken aback at the view.

Me. I was laying in there. I was a wearing a short black dress, and my arms were laid across my chest. All, and almost every single scar, showing themselves. My hair was neatly combed behind me, and my eyes had been closed- obviously.

Mark takes the dead girls hand in his, "I love you- present tense." He whispers, trying hold back tears, "I hope Heaven treats you well... Okay?" He brushes his soft lips onto the back of the pale hand in his grip. "Okay." He whispers.

I stumble back, not being able to take in any of the following events.

I was dead. Mark had written a eulogy. And... No. This can't happen.

I stagger towards Isabelle, "No. I can't die. This isn't what happens!" I cry out.

"Can't handle death?" She mocks.

"Isabelle! Please! I don't want to die anymore!" I babble.

I feel my knees go weak, and I fall to the floor.

"Please... Just give me a chance at life, I don't want to die... I can't." I look up at her, in hope.

She walks over towards me, "If you don't want to die, then what do you want to do?" She asks.

"I want to live." I admit, looking her in the eye.

"I was hoping you'd say that." She smiles.

She kneels down in front of me, and holds her hand out, "Give me your hand." She instructs.

I do as she says, and she wraps something cold around my wrist.

It was a bracelet. It held one charm in the middle; a pink heart.

With that, she snaps her fingers once again, and darkness.

It takes me a moment, but I realize my eyes are closed.

'Come on.... Wake up...' I beg myself.

My eyes painfully pry open, and I immediately look down at my arms. An IV and a tube were placed neatly upon my skin. Never in my life, did I ever think I'd be happy to have an IV in my arm.

I look over to my left and see Mark, his head hanging in his hands.

"Mark?" I croak out, unable to recognize my raspy voice.

His head shoots up, and his eyes widen, "Kenzie... You're awake!" He exclaims, giving me an ear-to-ear smile.

I reach over to him, and despite being pulled back by tubes, I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him.

"I'm awake." I smile in awe.

He wraps his arms around my waist, and pulls me closer to him.

I look over to the desk near my bed, and see a notepad and pen.

"What's that?" I ask, pulling apart from him.

I know exactly what it is; a eulogy; but might as well ask.

"Uh- nothing." He lies, "I'm gonna go tell a nurse you're awake." He smiles.

He kisses my forehead, and walks out.

Was Isabelle just a bad dream? A nightmare? There's no way any of that happened. I mean; I couldn't really have died... Right?

I take in a deep breath and look down at my wrist and my eyes widen at what I see.

It's a bracelet. In the middle lays a pink heart charm.

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AUTHOURS NOTE!!!

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If you read this story, please comment... c:

Good or bad, I just love comments XD

Oh! And can someone give me tips on making friends? I'm apparently very anti-social-.-t