Balloon Girl

"In death. . ."

"Om," hummed Azu, sitting behind her school.

It was half an hour before her eighth-grade graduation, and she knew she couldn't afford to lose herself in her brother's emotions.

Detach from the world.

Live in the moment.

"Azu!" exclaimed her best friend Rose, tugging on the balloon-ring on Azu's finger. "I know this spiritual stuff helps you-but it's half an hour before graduation!" She jumped up and down excitedly. "We have to get ready, with you doing a speech and all!"

Opening her eyes, Azu smiled. She was ready.

"...and we will always remember what our middle school years have taught us," Azu recited into the microphone, her eyes shining with excitement, "for they are irreplaceable..."

"Azu is quite the speaker," beamed Rose's mother.

"Oh, thank you," replied Azu's mother happily.

"How old is Azu again, Leah?"

"She turned thirteen last week."

"My, are our girls growing up!" gushed Rose's mother. "I'm surprised Azu still has that balloon with her, how many years has it been?"

"Oh, when it started losing helium, I simply taped the balloon and pumped in some more air," answered Azu's mother modestly. "No big deal."

"Shh!" whispered a voice behind them.

Their eyes turned back to the speaker in the navy robe.

"...and the experiences that we've had at this school will forever remain with us," continued Azu--even the balloon attached to the ring on her finger seemed to sit still for the ceremony, "whether in living--or in-death--"

Abruptly, she clutched her chest, as if from pain. Her eyes dilated, and her breathing became quite shallow.

"In-death..." she choked out.

Sudden pain seared through her cheek, through her scar, like fire. Inside, she suddenly felt like ice.

Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it would explode.

Her vision was so blurry she thought she'd become blind.

She collapsed onto the black stage, and closed her eyes. Her balloon seemed to have lost its vigor as well.

"In... death..."

Her body was so numb she felt as if she'd lost her life.

But it wasn't Azu whose life had been lost.

Thousands of miles away, a bullet pierced Mark Shinota's scar-his one vulnerable spot-and he collapsed onto the tall grass.

"Mark!" his comrades shouted. "Wake up-wake up!"

"Azu!" her friends yelled. "Wake up-Azu, wake up!"

But neither of them woke up. Their eyes remained closed.

A tear appeared at their eyes.

Mark was not going to come home.

Not now.

Not ever.

Azu was alone.