OK- this is just something I wrote for class for a vocabulary test. By dint of time having passed, I am no longer outright steamed at the cancellation of Reunion, but it is still an injustice to have left off in the middle. Therefore- this. I know it's kind of cut short as well, because I ran out of time (used all of the vocabulary I needed to, though;))- but if you folks like this, I can write more chapters.

Disclaimer: I do not own the story or characters of the late, lamented Reunion. If I did- it wouldn't be late and lamented, would it? And Prison Break wouldn't have been supplanted, even temporarily, by Skating With Celebrities(:P).

Never Ending Story

Where am I? That was the only thought to persist in sounding through my mind; the rest of my consciousness seemed plagued with a listless desire to sink into oblivion. It certainly didn't have far to go, surrounded by the void apparently empty of anything tangible.

The only thing I remembered was some sort of reunion; the inability to think chafed at my soul… there it was. A speech I had made at my high school reunion almost inaudible now, floated into my head, then began to ebb away again. Suddenly I was even more bewildered; it had been the 20-year reunion, but I didn't remember 20 years having passed. What was the last thing?... There was Craig; he had become an assemblyman- and that woman whom he had tried to put out of his life but who insolently swore to ruin us. Rachel; yes, that was her name. She had threatened me in 1994- and then the only thing I remembered after she walked away was the reunion- in 2006.

What had happened to me?

"For starters, Samantha Brewster, you're dead."

This was, needless to say, an anomalous and not altogether pleasant thing to hear. "Who- where are you?"

A dry chuckle was the first reply, then, "Yes, I suppose you're the only one I haven't met yet." He- I knew now it was a man- became visible, a bald, dark-skinned man in a neat suit. "The name's Marjorino- Detective Marjorino. I was investigating your murder."

One would think I would remember such a repugnant occasion as being killed, but it was gone from my mind. "Is this… the afterlife?"

"Of a sort, I guess. It's a kind of limbo. There's a reason, you see, why you don't remember a lot."

"What are you talking about?" By now I was more angry than quizzical.

"For all intents and purposes, we're entirely fictional. Nonexistent outside a TV show. A show that was canceled. Insufferable, isn't it?"

"So the years I don't remember…?"

"Episodes never written."

"And- then who killed me?"

He grimaced. I don't know. None of us will ever know now." Suddenly I realized there was blood coming out of his head. "And I was left like this, lying in an alley. We're all here- you, me, your husband- left in limbo. I can't say what viewers there were were very happy about that, either…."

Well, I wanted to write something gripping, and I had 40 minutes of sitting at a desk to throw random words in. Not a pretty combination, but hoy! Here is something for my page. I was hoping to type and post this within a week of my last update- you'd think it would be easy since I had already written it- but partially I'm busy and partially I'm lazy. Better late than never, right? I'll let you readers judge.