Many of you may take comfort in the fact that what I am writing here is fiction, but that does not mean it isn't true. The fiction of it is only a comfort to those who cannot see beyond the veil of the words on the page. So how is it true? I'll leave that for you to decide. After all, you've probably lived at least as much as I. Why are we afraid of the dark? Why do we fear the souls of those who have passed on? Why are we afraid of each other? Why do we pretend there is nothing to fear? And why do we make up these little stories? Is it because the truth is too hard to face? Here in the night of the world, all are fears are spiders and all our evils are butterflies...

Jane Helton wasn't one to lose her head, because she'd lost it long ago, in and out of too many places. That's why she didn't scream as she sat on the side of the road, looking into River's lifeless eyes amidst the twisted metal and glass. She was the first to come across the wreckage on the highway where his body lay. As she sat there, she remembered then that they used to play in the field nearby when they were kids. They'd run around in the sunshine and then lie down in the grass and watch the time pass through the sky in a scene of perfect peace and tranquility. But they never talked. Jane always imagined that she felt the all the things River needed to say emanating from his body, but he never said anything, like he was trying to keep it all in. It was like he was afraid of everything inside of him and what would happen if he let it all out. He wanted to be mean and hurt things so much, that he never dared to be mean to anyone ever. Every once in a while, when it all built up too much, a tear or two would escape. Jane thought it wasn't right for someone to cry in the sunshine, because, if you cry in the sunshine, then what's left to make you happy? But then, she knew the sunshine made him mad. It was supposed to make him happy, but it didn't. He'd lay there in the sunshine for hours because bad things don't happen in the real light, but he'd cry because he brought the darkness with him. It came through in spots sometimes and made little dark circles on his skin.

She drew a picture of him once in school. She drew the online of a boy and colored him in with a black crayon.