my first official huey/jazmine fic. mainly the italics are jazmine's pov. so if you wish for me to continue then you have to review. and if you are reading this thank you. huey is mentioned but isn't seen, i accept any type of suggestions, so please...advise me.

What happens when you die?

No seriously, what happens? Does your body burn when you die? Does it cry for solitude and peace? Does it bleed continuously as your soul pleads to remain in this world, what happens when you die? When I died, I think, I didn't scream...I did cry, and I did beg.

I begged him to stop.

I cried.

I did not scream.

The pain in my body was too much to handle, and really I did want him to kill me. Like he did the rest. Has anyone ever felt the pain that I have felt. The only people I can think of are the soldiers, innocent women, prisoners of war. We talked about war a lot in History. How many people were tortured, rape, and other terrible things I wish not to think about at the time.

I pray for death right now. It seems so helpful.

This pain, it hurts so much. I can't handle it, I'm not strong. Just please, let me go...I just want to go. No more. No more. Please no more.

No more pain please.

They arrived to a busy street. A frantic hospital trying to hold down the fort. How many parents were crowded, trying to get in. They locked hands, fearing for their own safety if they attempted to make their way through.

Many of their friends were there. Many of them. Friends that they had known for the past eight years, since they had moved to their supposedly peaceful town. Nurses tried their best to calm down the large crowd, gesturing as many people as they possible could.

Tom stared down at his wife, "We need to get in there, but how"?

"I guess we have to do what they're doing, I'm sure they have loved ones in there also".

He breathed in deeply, refusing tears to come. He had to be strong for once. He couldn't be the wussy, the weakling who cried when nothing went his way. His wife needed him, his daughter needed him, their family.

Family.

The crowd was finally dispatching, people now smoothly moving in the open glass doors of the largest hospital in Woodcrest. Locking their hands together, refusing to let go, Tom and Sarah walked in together. Praying for the best.

Life.

I guess I have lived a happy life indeed. I great life. Some lives could be shorter. But I never imagined for it to end this way. Not once. A friend of mine, a word that he does not use kindly, told me to expect the expecting. See life for what it truly is, and do not lie to myself in the process. I shouldn't block out my true feelings, numb myself to the point to only believing the man.

I would often question his motives.

"Huey you always see the bad in the world, what about the good"?

"If you haven't noticed Jazmine," his cold eyes scanning me, "there is hardly any good".

I always knew he was right. He was always right, never wrong. The day I met him, was the most...peculiar meeting of my life. Cold and mean, I was intrigued by the way he talked , the way he acted. Everything. How could I not be fascinated by the way he acted. He treated me indifferently, as if he didn't like me one bit.

But I know he does.

His friend Caesar said so, and that gave me hope. Caesar. So kind, so gentle, has similar views with Huey, but with a lighter tone. He never once made me feel out of place, encouraging me to never stop seeing the good. A bright smile on his face, friendly even to his enemies.

I wonder...where are they.

He told me that he had friends too, that they were all around the school. I wasn't the only one, there were many of us. Huddled in different directions in the classroom, our teacher's corpse right in front of his desk.

"Play with me girls, entertain me".

Despite myself trying to stray upon that path, I now believe Huey's words. There is no good in the world. But there is Caesar. He's good, and now I wish I was with them. If they aren't here, I want to go where they are. Away from the pain.

The hospital was packed. Nurses scurrying from one direction to the next, not knowing what to do. Doctors who were off for the day were now professionally entering the hospital, preparing themselves for whatever tasks that had to do. Sarah and Tom found two seats in the lobby. They sat down quietly.

Fortunately, they weren't the only ones there. Three of their friends were there, one couple, Julie and Henry walking to them.

"It seems, we're not the only ones," Julie's voice frail.

"I saw it on the television," Sarah said, "and at first...I couldn't believe it".

Henry patted Tom's back, "Yeah, I was at the job when it just popped on televisions, and the phone rang".

"My boys," a rough voice intruded into their conversation, "they'll be alright".

The four parents turned to the voice. Sarah and Tom felt worse than they did before. Had Robert Jebediah Freeman ever look so pitiful. His words were prideful, the way they came out were not. In all his years he had never looked his age. Now he did, he did.

"They get shot at all the time," his voice never wavering, "I know that they'll get out".

His boys. All he had. The thought of losing them never crossed his mind, not once. He treated them with distaste, that was true. He wouldn't dare lie about it, how many times had he cussed them out when they were younger-approximately over two million times.

The thought of losing them never crossed his mind.

He leaned his back on the pale green wall. His chest going up and down. The thought was racing through his mind. What if he did lose them? How would he live? Believe it or not, those boys were all he had left. His wife, Linda, his daughter Janet. How he loved them. A promise he made to both of them.

"Daddy, I need you take care of my boys, please Daddy".

"Sweetie, I know you can do well, you'll take good care of my babies".

A promise that could never be fulfilled. He was sure whenever he died, and that both of them had gotten good jobs and had a good future, he had done his job. Hearing the phone call, going to the school, seeing their bodies being put on stretchers.

If he ever made it to heaven, what would he say to them?

It would be impossible to forgive himself.

The world around him spun crazily. If their lives were over, then he would go down with them.

I've been asking many questions now, haven't I? I'm sorry, I just want to know. Where am I? Am I dead or am I alive. If I am alive, please pull the plug, I feel too weak and too agonized to keep on going.

But if I do go, I want to know where are my friends. And if they are here, maybe I can live a little longer. Sadly, I doubt that. You may call me pessimistic, but the ordeal that I have been through-its too much.

I want my family and friends to know that I love them and thank you.

"I want to see my Jon," Julie hissed, "I want to see him".

She held a paper cup filled with coffee, it shaking uncontrollably.

"Julie," Sarah said kindly, "we all need to relax, no matter how much we want to see them".

I wish only to be free. Free from the world and the pain, please.

I am falling. I feel myself drowing in this giant pool of my own tears. I get going deeper and deeper. And soon the bright light that was above me seems to fade away. I fall deeper and deeper. And soon this life that I have lived will be over.


its dark isn't it? well its gonna be darker, and it is a tragedy. so expect the pain. but i can't reveal all my thoughts can i. this is suppose to be an one-shot, but if you guys review then i will happily go to the second chapter. and once again if you are reading this, then thanks.