The restaurant is closing. Yvonne leans over the table to pick up the photos of Theresa and Sharon. Maggie pushes away from the table, refusing any aid from me.

One more reunion down. It has only been three years since we graduated from Sunnydale. Three years of coping with the grief. These reunions help. It helps to remember with friends, friends who know what the real world is made up of.

I have moved on from Sunnydale. Got myself some nice, new friends. Of course, they don't understand why I refuse to invite the pizza guy in. Or why my diploma is a few fragments of burned paper. Or even why I don't watch any and all vampire movies, especially the ones which glorify them. That particular freak out got me quite the reputation. But the truth is, only someone who knows where I come from can really understand this.

Yvonne and Maggie have their share of similar incidents. Even those who I barely shared a word with in high school, like that Jonathan kid, would be able to relate to this better than my new friends.

They can never understand the grief and the pain. Which is why every year, regular as clockwork, we meet. The three of us. The final Freaky Three. What is left of our innocence, our childhood, and our carefree days. All we have of that is memories. For our friends and for ourselves, every year we meet. And mourn.

Requiescant In Pace (may they rest in peace)