Trying to start over can be the best or most terrifying experience of your life. Be brave, be strong, hold on with both hands. If you fall down brush off the dust and keep trying. It's worth it.
We were all alive.
We were all together again.
Until...
A knock on the door.
"He's gone...He's really gone and I feel. I feel so cold, there's a piece of me missing and it hurts so much...I can't...I just..."
Is this the beginning of the end?
Or the start of a new beginning.
How many more steps are needed before they reach freedom?
Or have they gone one step too far?