Stages of Grief

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Red and blue lights flash against black ashpalt. Within heavy rain a man lies on the floor. //She// stares at him, at his lifeless body. The rain washes the blood out of the street. He looks like he's asleep. He must be asleep. He can't be [[dead|Dead]].

Jeane: "He isn't dead right? He isn't dead. He //can't// be dead." An officer holds Jeane back as she tries to shove her way to the man. Jeane: "Wait, that isn't him. It can't be him. That isn't him right? CAN YOU JUST TELL ME IF IT'S HIM." Jeane: "It can't... It can't." Jeane pushes herself out of the officer's grasp and runs down the street. The path in front of her is covered in darkness, yet she still runs forward. The rain around her seems to fade, teardrops taking its place. The dimly lit lamp posts above the street disappear. With each step, she feels the rain on the concrete dry away. She looks back to see the man lay behind her, fading further and further away as she [[runs|Denial]].

''//Denial//'' Looking behind her now, Jeane only sees black. The sound of rain is no longer there. The humming of the cars, the candescence lights of the street, the people huddled around, and the man on the street. All of it gone. Instead she treads in a dark unknown area. Above her, she can make out a rocky ceiling. Not man made. She doesn't care. Jeane: "I have to make sure of who that was. Who was that? I know it wasn't him. I KNOW it wasn't him." His [[hair|Hair]] was too rugged to have been him. His [[face|Face]] was too small to have been him. His [[body|Body]] was too weak to have been him.

Jeane remembers him. How she would climb over him as a child, both of them laughing as she messed with his hair. He would arrive home late on work nights, hair wet and disarrayed, standing at the door frame with a big smile on his face. He would drive her to school with the windows rolled down, hair blowing in the wind while the sun shined on his face. The hair she knew couldn't have been the same as the bloodied and fallen hair that //body// had. That man on the floor couldn't have been [[him|Him]].

Jeane remembers his face. His bright, warm smile that made her feel secure and at ease. His ginormous body that towered over her, so huge that he would have to bend down just to hug her. His comically large nose that she would make fun of, before he retorted with his own sarcastic teasing. His sincere and caring complexion, with which he embedded in her his kindness. That man on the floor with the blank, red-tinted face couldn't have been the face she knew. That man on the floor couldn't have been [[him|Him]].

Jeane trudges through what she now realizes is a cave made of asphalt. She doesn't even consider how she got here. Instead, she continues towards the distant source of light ahead of her. Jeane hears a sound echo through the cave. She stops and looks around, barely making out anything. She can make out the faded sound of a voice. No. //Voices.// The voices get louder and louder, until Jeane can hear them coming from all around her. Jeane sprints towards the light. Voices: "<span class="readmore">He is the man. He is the man. It is him. It is him. It is him. It is him.</span> Jeane staggers on her next step. Jeane: "What? What did you say?" The voices repeat in unison. They speak faster and faster with every second. Jeane: "You, it, how do you know that? Huh? How could you even know THAT!?! You don't know who that was! IT COULD BE ANYONE. It could be anyone..." Jeane falls to the ground. She weakly punches at her thigh. She looks down on her own hands. Tears fall onto her palms. Jeane: "It could have been anyone. It could have been anyone in his place. Then why did it have to be him? WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE HIM?" Jeane: "ITS NOT FAIR. CHOOSE SOMEONE ELSE." Jeane screams up towards the ceiling, her voice echoing through cave. The sounds of the strangers no longer surround her. Jeane: "Choose me." Jeane sits there for [[a while|Anger]].

Jeane remembers him. She remembers his long, long body that used to tower over her, keeping her safe instead of scared. She remembers his love for baseball. She can imagine him now, grasping a baseball bat up to his shoulders, as she prepares to pitch the ball to him. He would go easy on her of course, because as he used to say, she's an //amateur// compared to ''him''. Jeane remembers his sense of humour, how she could never stay mad at him for too long. That goofy complexion won her back each time. He would always brighten up her day, which was especially hard during her angsty teenage years. That dark, empty, dimly lit body couldn't have been him. That man on the floor couldn't have been [[him|Him]].

''//Anger//'' Jeane finally steps out of the cave into the light. She looks around her to see a field of bright green grass. The sky is a beautiful light blue, the sun shines onto her face, the ground embraces her feet with warmth and comfort, and around her she feels the presence of wildlife. Looking to the open grass, Jeane is reminded of her childhood. She's reminded of how //he// would force her to go outside when the day was this beautiful. Jeane walks through the plain and [[open field|Field]].

In the distance, Jeane sees a figure. It's sitting on the grass. She recognizes him. Jeane runs as fast as she can towards him, stumbling as she does. She breathes and cries tears of joy. She comes up to the figure sitting on a ground, on top of a picnic cloth. He, or //it//, is shrouded in darkness, untouched by the light in the field. It's face is covered in shadow. It's unrecognizable. Figure: "Why did you do it?" Jeane: "Huh?" Figure: "Why did you do all that you did? You brought it on him. You brought it on ''me''. You led him to this because of how you ARE." Jeane: "Wh-what?" Figure: "Admit it. It's all on you. If you hadn't asked him to pick you up, he would still be alive. You always have to rely on hi-" Jeane punches him across the face. Jeane: "WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Jeane pumpels him over and over, until the thing falls to the ground. She crouches over him, holding her quivering fists in the air. Jeane [[punches|Punch]] him again. Jeane [[lets down|Pull]] her arms.

Jeane smacks him across the jaw. His head jerks to the side as he lays on the ground. She punches him again, his head swinging to the other side now. Jeane looms over him. She [[punches again|P2]].

Jeane stays still, crouching over that //thing//. It's face is empty and blank. It doesn't react to her with fear or remorse or relief. Jeane gets off it. She stumbles onto the smooth grass. Jeane: "UGHHHHH." She starts pulling out strings of grass, over and over and over as she screams. Jeane punches the ground, denting the soil where she touched. Jeane leans to her side and falls with her back onto the grass. She looks up at the blue sky. She [[sighs|Remorse]].

Jeane smacks him across the jaw. His head jerks to the side as he lays on the ground. She punches him again, his head swinging to the other side now. Jeane looms over him. She punches again. She [[punches again|P3]].

Jeane wipes her mouth and breathes deep. She stares with fiery eyes at that //thing// on the ground. She's still looming over it. The thing doesn't whince, or show signs of pain. She doesn't want to stop. Her trembling fist is still raised to her side, ready to go. Jeane turns to her side and falls onto the grass. She looks up at the light blue sky. She [[sighs|Remorse]].

Jeane: "I'm sorry" She speaks to the thing. It has no response. Jeane: "Maybe if I had done thing different, he wouldn't have died. Maybe it's on me." Jeane lies there in silence, the thing still lying limply beside her. She gets up and [[moves onward|Bargain]].

Bargaining Jeane, though out of breath, continues to walk in an randomly chosen direction. For a while, she sees nothing worth of notice in front of her. She only //now// realizes she's gone from a street in the middle of the city, to a grassy field filled with mysterious dark creatures. She's still too out of it for anything to matter. In the distance, Jeane finally spots a structure. It seems to be a large medieval structured door. In front of it, stands a person. She rushes to the [[door|Give]] with haste.

Guard: "Hello traveler. What might you need from me?" Jeane: "Uuuh..." The sudden lack of ''evil'' in the figure throws Jeane off [[guard]]. Jeane: "I uh... want to get out of here." Guard: "Is that truly what you seek?" Jeane: "Yes." Guard: "Are you [[sure|Sure]]?"

Hah[[.|Give]]

Jeane is reminded of the body on the street. She imagines the car swerving out of the way, instead of crashing. She imagines him not leaving home at all. Jeane: "I-I-I want-" Guard: "Yes exactly. You now understand what you want. What shall you give in return?" Jeane's mind races. She thinks of all that she can give up. All that she can give up, just for her normal life back. Just for normalcy. She's willing to give it all. [["I can give all the money I have."|Money]] [["I can give all the things I have."|Things]] [["I can give the life that I no longer desire."|Life]]

Guard: "I have no need for that. Wrong answer." Jeane: "What do you //mean// you have no need for that? What exactly do you ''want''. What is it?" The [[guard|Sure]] grins.

Guard: "Your things are of no use to me. Especially the things of a teenage girl. Why would I need that?" Jeane: "What- that makes no sense. This all makes no sense. Then what is it that you even need? What do you want from ME? What's the point here? I-I don't know what I can //give.//" Guard: "[[Search|Sure]] harder."

Guard: "So then it comes down to that." Jeane: "Take it, I don't need it." Guard: "Sorry, that's not how it works." Jeane: "Wha-wha-then WHAT? What do you want? I'll give it all. I just want him back. Please. PLEASE. ANYTHING!" Guard: "Yes, exactly." The guard pulls a lever on the wall of the giant door. A black pit appears beneath Jeane. Jeane falls without choice into the darkness, her tears rushing down with her. Jeane arrives at the [[end|Depression]].

Depression Jeane arrives into the darkness. She collapses onto the floor of the emtpy pit. She looks up from where she came, to see nothing. There is no way out. All that surrounds her is black. Jeane doesn't even bother trying to get up. She droops - now a lifeless being - onto the dark. She [[deserves]] it.

As that thing said, it's her fault. She brought this upon herself. She was never half the person he taught her to be like. She wasn't brave, and compassionate, and caring, and funny, and kind. She was selfish. She asked for too much. She couldn't even give up anything of her own for him. She should just [[be gone|D]].

Jeane lies still on the ground, with all of the world's nothingness pressuring down on her. A pool of tears builds under her face, as she stays there trembling. She should just die. [[Die.|D2]]

Jeane lies still on the ground, surrounded by nothing. A pool of tears builds under her face, as she stays there trembling. She should just die. Die. [[Die.|D3]]

Jeane lies still on the ground, surrounded by nothing. A pool of tears builds under her face, as she stays there trembling. She should just die. Die. Die. [[Die.|D4]]

Jeane lies still on the ground, surrounded by nothing. A pool of tears builds under her face, as she stays there trembling. She should just die. Die. Die. Die. [[Die.|D5]]

Jeane lies still on the ground, surrounded by nothing. A pool of tears builds under her face, as she stays there trembling. She should just die. Die. Die. Die. Die. [[Die.|D6]]

She should just die. <<timed 6s>> <div id="test"><p>A voice calls from afar.</p></div> <</timed>> <<timed 9s>> <div id="test"><p>"Jeane? Jeane is that [[you|House]]?"</p></div> <</timed>>

Jeane is at the entrance hallway of her home, her hair wet and disarrayed, fallen onto the floor. The door sits wide open behind her, heavy rain pouring through it onto the carpet. Jeane's lying face down on the hallway carpet. Her clothes are all drenched. She stays there halfway in the doorframe, her body not wanting to move. She [[looks up]].

Jeane: "M-Mom?" Mom: "Oh Jeane. Oh Jeaneee." Jeane's Mom pulls her up into her arms. Jeane: "Mom, I-he's gone, Mom. He's gone." Mom: "I know honey, I know." Jeane: "Mom, he left us. He can't leave us like this, right?" Jeane looks up at her Mom. Jeane: "It's my fault isn't it? I shouldn't have asked him to go. Why did I- it's always my fault." Mom: "No honey, it's not your fault. It's not you fault honey. I-I-It's not anyone's fault." Mom embraces Jeane tightly. Mom: "It's [[not anyone's fault|Acceptance]] at all."

Jeane: "I miss him Mom. I miss him already. I miss Dad." Mom looks out at the rain. Mom: "I do too hun. I do too." Jeane hugs her Mom closer. Jeane: "Mom I loved him. I loved him so much." Mom: "He loved you too." "He really did." Acceptance