Trigger warning: This chapter contains mention of death and suicide, please read carefully or skip if needed

Mila's words repeated in Marcus's head several times but they never made sense. I died when I was eight. It didn't make sense and all he could do was stare at her in confusion.

"Pardon?"

"I died when I was a kid," Mila repeated. "But I was resuscitated so like... I didn't die, but I did, you know?"

"What happened?"

"Well, Terry and I were playing around at this lake when we went camping and I was... Young and reckless and dumb," Mila shrugged. "And I got a little too reckless and I fell into a deep part of the lake, and I didn't know how to swim. Terry didn't either, though he tried to get to me and almost drowned himself. Some other people heard the screaming and eventually my parents found their way over to us. My dad jumped in to get me but... I wasn't breathing. My heart stopped, and all the CPR in the world didn't get it going again," she said, chewing on her lip, a far-off look in her eyes that made Marcus wonder what else she was thinking as she told the story. "Anyway, it just so happened an ambulance was nearby so they got to us and shocked my system a few times until my heart restarted. But for about ten minutes, I was dead. Not breathing, no heartbeat, no anything. I was rushed to the hospital and they were concerned about brain damage, told my parents to look out for strange things. I don't remember a lot of it," she admitted. "But I do remember one thing, something everyone except my mom thought was crazy."

"What did you remember?"

"Death," she said, lifting her eyes to his. "I met Death, or at least, I think I did. I was about to leave with her when my heart started again and... Yes, I realize how insane I sound so no need to point it out," Mila said, lifting her hands in surrender. "But that wasn't the only time I saw her. I saw her again, a few years later when..." Mila trailed off and swallowed hard, breaking eye contact.

"When what?" Marcus asked, his frown deepening at the sad look in her eyes.

"My best friend... Um..." Mila sighed and shook her head, deciding the easiest way to get it out would be just do it all at once. "She hung herself, and I found her in her garage when I came to ask if she wanted to play. Only her dad was home but... She didn't have a good home life," Mila frowned. "She had a really bad home life and I think that's why... Well, anyway," Mila shrugged, picking absently at her nails. "I was fourteen when that happened and while I was desperately trying to get her to breathe again and waiting for an ambulance to show up..."

She stopped again. Taking in a deep breath and deciding to focus her eyes on one spot on the wall, she continued.

"Again, I know it sounds crazy," she laughed, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "I know it does, but... It felt real to me. The same Death I met before, she set her hand on my shoulder to get me to stop trying to resuscitate my best friend. She told me that she knew it was hard but I had to let her go, and not to worry because she would take care of her and make sure she found a nice resting place, it would just be in a place I couldn't see her for a while. So anyway, after that incident, my dad desperately wanted to put me in therapy because he thought I was going insane," she laughed. "It was the second time I was bringing up Death and... I think he thought that maybe that was how my brain damage was manifesting, even though every doctor said I healed from the lake incident really well. He just never believed me," Mila shrugged, folding her hands in her lap. "My mom did, though. Just not my dad. Which brings me to my third encounter with Death."

"Three is a lot," Marcus frowned.

"You were around a lot of death too," Mila pointed out.

"It was... Vastly different."

"Still," Mila shrugged. "Well, the last time I saw Death was when my mom died. She... You know, she had dementia," Mila said, chewing on her lip. "She technically died of a lung infection but the only reason it beat her was because her brain wasn't communicating with her body properly and so her immune system couldn't really function well. So... I still call dementia the reason, because she would've been okay if her brain didn't deteriorate so much. Anyway, towards the end, things got really bad. Like hallucination level bad. It was so bad that once she actually... She confused me for a demon," Mila said, laughing lightly but without humor. "I walked in the room to give her meds and she just... Freaked out on me," Mila sighed. "She started throwing stuff, holding her cross at me and telling me I couldn't take her, she wasn't ready to go and she wasn't going anywhere with an evil demon."

"Fucking hell, Mila," Marcus frowned.

"I know," Mila said, shaking her head. "It was awful. That was just one of the many things that happened but anyway, when my mom died I just... I felt like I couldn't handle more death, you know? I was alone with her when she died. We were in the hospital room and Terry was trying to get there but he got stuck in traffic behind this really awful accident. Poor thing was sobbing in the car, knowing he probably wouldn't get to say goodbye to mom. I ended up getting him on the phone to say goodbye because it was the best we could do," Mila shrugged. "Then shortly after that... Her heart stopped, and I just sat there, holding her hand and asking her to come back to me. It wasn't long after that Death showed up. I didn't see her right away, I only saw her when she was taking the soul from my mom's body. I don't think she knew I could see her until I cried and begged her to put the soul back. She didn't, she couldn't, she said," Mila said, her eyes shifting to the side. "But she sat with me for just a short time, I don't know how long, maybe a few seconds. She told me she was sorry I was losing another person, she was sorry I'd spent so much time around things like this, sorry that she had to take my mom from me, but she just reassured me my mom would be okay where she was going, that she'd be happy and safe and... You know, not suffering anymore. I wanted to ask her more but then she had to leave and I was just there with my mom's body but... Shit, it really felt real," she said, shaking her head. "It felt so real and I just wanted to see Death again, to ask her more questions, to ask her how my friend was doing, ask her if I could see my friend and my mom again. So I kind of... Started hanging around places people died a lot. Hospitals, mostly. I just wanted to see her again, but... That looked a little too crazy to my dad and brother."

"That's when they had you admitted," Marcus realized.

Mila nodded. "At first I didn't tell them, because I knew my dad already thought I was crazy," she said bitterly, rolling her eyes. "But Terry... I thought I could trust Terry. I thought if I just told him the truth and really explained how real it all felt, that he would understand. It wasn't that I thought he should let me keep going to the hospital, I realize that was unhealthy but I was grieving and I just... I wanted to see my mom again so bad," she said, her voice quivering at the end. She paused for a moment and took in another deep breath. "Anyway, when I told him why I was doing what I was doing, he told my dad, and the next day I was dragged into a psychiatric hospital and put on medicine and treated for everything from severe PTSD to schizophrenia. Eventually, they decided there wasn't anything wrong with me and chocked up the hallucinations to trauma from my lake experience along with grief and I was sent home. But for days I was locked in that awful building, getting pills forced down my throat and having everyone treat me like I was fucking insane," she said, heat flooding her face as the anger she still had returned.

"It was an awful experience and... Yeah, my and my brother's relationship has never been the same. It can't be. He broke my trust and you know... he didn't have to do that to me," she frowned. "I realize I sounded crazy but he could've tried other things before going that extreme. So I'm angry at him, but at the same time I love him because he was my best friend until then, and I love him for the way he loves on Stella so much, but I hate him for putting me through that. It's just complicated and messy, especially because I know he wasn't exactly in his right mind at the time either. I know he was grieving our mom, and it was towards the end of mom's life that we found out Stella was sick so that was awful news to get right when our mom was dying and that put a lot on him, and he had to start taking care of Stella and he became her legal guardian while I was locked up and... I know he was going through a lot too but it was still really fucking unfair."

"If your father is around, why isn't he taking care of Stella?" Marcus asked.

"Oh, because that piece of shit bailed the moment mom's condition became too hard," Mila said, laughing bitterly. "He just left my mom home alone. Didn't say a word to me, to Terry, to anybody. My mom was not okay to be left alone but he just left her, and she was alone for hours and she ended up trying to do things herself and got really hurt. She fell and broke her hip and hit her head and she was just laying on the floor crying when I found her. Then that asshole tried to just come back into our lives," she said, rolling her eyes. "And because Terry's a fucking idiot, he's letting him. They hang out every Wednesday that dad actually decides to show up and Terry sometimes tries to get me to go but I refuse. I will not forgive my dad for abandoning us when things went bad then just thinking he can come back whenever the fuck he feels like it. It's so messed up. Like yeah, sure, call me the crazy one, but I never abandoned my family in their time of need. If my options are crazy or abandoning, I'd rather be crazy."

"Crazy isn't the word I'd use."

"Please, you've been asking me what's wrong with me since you got here," Mila laughed. "Admit it. You think I'm crazy too. I'm just the crazy, middle child that talks to Death sometimes and is too much for everyone."

"Who told you that?" Marcus frowned. Mila was eccentric and nothing like any other person he'd been around, but it wasn't in a negative way, just an unexpected way.

"Oh, my dad used to say it all the time," she said, rolling her eyes. "Terry's the perfect one, Stella's the baby, and Mila... Well, good luck putting up with her because she is a bit too much and talks to beings that don't exist like a crazy person. Honestly, I think he thought I was crazy long before he had evidence of it because of the Death thing, he's never believed a word I said but he's always loved to say 'don't be crazy if you can even help it'."

Marcus wasn't sure what to say to that. Her father sounded like a piece of shit he wouldn't mind dragging through hell a couple times. He was starting to see why she threw the word around so much, she was just used to hearing it.

"If your father is such a cunt, then why does your brother let him come back?" Marcus asked.

Mila's eyebrows raised in surprise at his word choice but she shrugged it off since she agreed. "My question exactly," Mila said, rolling her eyes. "I don't know what to say except that Terry wants to forgive everyone for everything. It's a real problem. When I ask him about dad, why he keeps giving him chances when he knows he's going to be let down again, he just says..." she stopped and sighed, shaking her head. "He says he's lost too many people and dad isn't perfect but he's hoping he'll change and be there for Stella, be there for us. He said he lost mom and he can't stand losing dad too, especially since he and I are... Not exactly on friendly terms. And things with Stella just... They're really hard. They're really hard on Terry and... I don't know. I think he's afraid he's going to lose all his family so he's clinging onto the ones he still can."

"It doesn't bother him that your dad treats you poorly?" Marcus frowned.

"No it does," Mila said. "I mean... he's yelled at dad for being a dick to me more times than I can count. Anytime my dad would start coming at me, Terry would stop it and tell him he needed to be nicer to me. But Terry's an idiot, like I said, and he truly believes dad's sorry for leaving us and sorry for what he put me through. But I'm not an idiot so I don't buy that shit. I don't give a fuck. They can both think I'm crazy, they can both hang out and hurt each other if that's what they want but I won't be a part of it. I just have to sit and watch Terry get himself hurt over and over again, as if that's not borderline crazy behavior but sure, I'm the crazy one," she said, muttering the last part quietly.

Marcus frowned at her words. It was obvious it bothered her deeply but she kept saying the word like she almost believed it herself. He couldn't explain why but he didn't like she was letting their words get to her.

"What did she look like?" Marcus asked.

"Who?" Mila frowned.

"Death, what did she look like?"

"Very funny," Mila said, narrowing her eyes. "Go ahead, make fun of me, I'm used to it. You can't say worse than others have."

"I'm not making fun of you," Marcus said, turning towards her. "I'm serious. I want to know what she looked like."

"What, saying I saw her three times and tried to track her down at hospitals isn't enough material enough for you?"

"Mila, I'm not trying to mock you," Marcus said seriously. "I really want to know."

"Really?" Mila asked doubtfully.

"Really."

"You're lying but whatever," Mila sighed. "She was astonishingly gorgeous. Like... Surreal how perfect she looked. She had white hair and eyes that were like... Kind of white sometimes but also sometimes shadowy and milky? I don't know, I just know I've never seen eyes like that in my life. She had smooth, ebony skin, flawless like nothing I've ever seen. She was wearing this really cool, long, black dress and... I don't know, she was just so graceful. Nothing like I would've imagined Death to look like."

Marcus's eyes widened and he let out a breathy laugh. "Mila... I can honestly tell you, you're not crazy and you're not hallucinating."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you just described Death," Marcus said. "I know her. I've met her and talked with her several times. She's exactly how you described. I don't know why you can see her, maybe because you did briefly die, but... Yeah, that's what Death looks like."

"Don't fuck with me right now," Mila said, unsure she believed him or not.

"I'm not fucking with you, I'm telling you that is exactly what she looks like and honestly... The way you describe how she talked to you sounds exactly like what she'd say. She's a very gracious being and she hates seeing suffering. Being Death isn't an easy job, she has an immense amount of compassion."

"Are you being serious?" Mila asked, her brows drawing together. "I'm being serious, don't make a joke out of this. This is like... Something that's been haunting me forever and making me question my own sanity."

"I can ask her for you," Marcus shrugged. "But I'm being serious, Mila. You did see Death, you're not crazy."

"I'm not crazy," she repeated, sinking in the couch and frowning, her eyes darting around the room. She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, hugging them to her chest.

Marcus was surprised to see her looking so vulnerable and sad. He thought hearing she wasn't crazy would make her feel better but she didn't look it.

"Does that make you... Sad?" He asked.

"What?" Mila frowned, looking up at him. "No, it's... Kind of a relief honestly," she said, her frown deepening. "I spent so long wondering if they were right, maybe I was crazy. I mean, it sounds crazy, I'll admit that," she said, drawing in her bottom lip and biting down. "But... It all felt so real that I just couldn't let it go. Knowing I'm not actually crazy is like... I've been told I was crazy my whole life so, I don't know, it's making me a little emotional I guess. You're really not fucking with me? This isn't like a demon prank to make me hate you so I'll send you away?"

"I'm not fucking with you," Marcus said, shaking his head. "I'll show you," he said, holding out his hand.

"Show me what?" Mila frowned, looking at his hand curiously.

"I can share memories with you," he explained. "So let me show you the Death I know and you tell me if it's the same one."

"Kinda weird, kinda awesome," Mila shrugged, slowly placing her hand in Marcus's. "I'll take it."

Marcus bit back the smile and closed his eyes, accessing his most recent encounter with Death and allowing Mila a link into his mind, to the one single memory.

Mila sucked in a breath as a strange sensation passed through her and then her eyes were filled with strange colors and twists and turns unlike anything she'd ever seen. She followed one tangled thread to a multiple of others until she was standing in front of Death. Well, Marcus was standing in front of death but she was seeing through his eyes and... It was the same Death. The one she knew, the one she met three times.

As quickly as she was brought into the memory, she was taken out, going back down the twisted path of colors through tangled threads until she opened her eyes to her own apartment again, blinking a couple times as she attempted to regain her bearings.

"Well?" Marcus asked.

"It... That was her," Mila said, her brows furrowing. "That was Death, the one I met."

"See?" Marcus said, a smile tugging on his lips. "You're not crazy."

"Not crazy," Mila repeated quietly, a smile starting to take place of the frown.

Marcus was caught off guard when Mila launched herself across the couch and hugged him. He stayed frozen in place while she leaned against him, her arms wrapped around her neck. "You're kind of an asshole still, but... Thanks," she said, tightening her arms around him. "It's nice to not feel crazy for once."

"You're welcome," Marcus said, tentatively setting his hand on her back in an awkward return of a hug.

Mila pulled back and smiled. That smile was more than just a smile. It held hope, validation, and relief. That smile shone brighter than others he'd seen on her and it drew too much attention to the full lips only inches from his. His eyes darted down to those lips for a second before they came back to her eyes.

Mila held his gaze only for a few more seconds, only able to do so much because she hated to admit that for a moment, she wanted to kiss him. He was the first person since her mother to ask what Death looked like and not just assume she was insane. He was the first since her mother to tell her she wasn't crazy. It was the first time since she lost her mother that she felt anyone really saw her at all.