Home of a mother, wife, writer

I wanted to go to him. I’d slipped my message into the mailbox after he’d left to go to my funeral. It was cruel timing, even I knew that. But, I couldn’t show myself. Not yet. For the moment, it was better that everyone thought I was dead. Especially the man who thought he’d killed me.

But, Aidan was hurting so bad right now. I never wanted him to hurt. And it was partially my fault he was. Maybe I should have come forward sooner. But, after I’d fallen, I actually had thought I was going to die. And if I’d come back then, that asshole would have finished me off. And maybe Aidan as well. I just hoped he’d understand I’d  been protecting him.

But, right now, he was sitting on our porch swing crying. I’d never heard such a broken sound before. It was killing me not to go to him right now. But, I knew I couldn’t. I had to wait and just hope he’d follow the instructions on the postcard. If he did, Tuesday at 8 I could finally be with him again. I retreated back into the trees and made my way back to the cave where I’d dragged myself when I’d woken up on the ledge I’d landed on after getting pushed off the cliff.


I hung in the shadows of some trees that Tuesday night. I didn’t even know if Aidan would come up here tonight. Maybe he had thought the card really was a cruel joke. I should have said more. But, I was afraid to risk putting too much into writing.

Then, I heard the rustle of footsteps through fallen leaves. I stayed right where I was. It might not be Aidan. It was hard to see clearly as the sky darkened. And I hadn’t wanted to risk a light. I saw the beam of his flashlight at he finally came to our spot. A few more moments passed before I finally heard his voice.

“Ian.” I hated the way his voice cracked on my name. Then, he continued, “I’ll have you know, if you are here, I’m going to kill you for what you’ve put me through.”

I couldn’t stop the chuckle that rose. Aidan’s head whipped toward me, so I stepped out of the trees and pushed back the hood of my sweatshirt. “I’m really getting tired of people threatening me with that.”

The flashlight dropped from his hand, and I dashed forward to catch him as his knees looked like they’d give out. For a moment, everything felt right again with my arms around him. Then, he said, “You’re dead.” His gaze stayed on my face, but I could see the fear and confusion in his face, and it ripped through me. “We buried you today.”

“I’m sorry,” I told him. And I was. I hated that he’d been grieving me for so long, but there wasn’t anything I could do to change that. “I had to. Or he would have come after me again. But, I couldn’t hide from you anymore. It was killing me. But, if he finds out I’m still alive, that’s just what he will do.”

“Who?” he demanded, pulling back but still staring at me.

This was going to be the hard part. I wasn’t sure he’d believe it. Not when he’d thought that asshole was a friend. Or at least not an enemy. I didn’t know how he’d react to the truth. And all I wanted to do was kiss him. But, I had to do this first.

“Come on,” I said, stepping back from the clearing. It would be better for us to head for the cave I’d been staying in before we started this. “And I’ll tell you a story.”


Today’s Story a Day prompt was to take a story you’ve written before and write it again from a different point of view. So, I took my story from Day 1, “The Dead Friend“, and rewrote it from Ian’s POV instead of Aidan’s.

Comments on: "Story a Day: Day 15 – “Not so Dead”" (4)

  1. Ooh, this is so intriguing!

  2. […] Not So Dead – rewrote Day 1’s The Dead Friend, from Ian’s POV this time. […]

  3. […] Not So Dead – rewrote Day 1’s The Dead Friend, from Ian’s POV this time. […]

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