She was all dressed in black and gray, her lazy ponytail falling on her shoulders. It was hard to describe how much of the smoke that came out of her mouth was a result of the cold or of the cigarette, that was once being pressed against her lips but now was laying down on the concrete. We had spent the whole afternoon staring at the horizon. Ever since Josh was gone, things had been a little weird between us, but it was nice having her company. She didn't feel like talking. Me neither. We were ok just smoking and trying to process what happened, when she broke the silence - You know what's annoying me? I feel like, somehow, I'm being left behind... - I got a little confused and she could feel it. She looked at me and continued - Josh always said he wasn't brave enough, right? He thought He was a coward. I didn't. - ... I'm not sure I'm following - We... We always talked about what happens after here... I mean, when we're gone. We have to go somewhere, don't you think so? - Yes, that would be a nice thing to believe in... - I spend most of my days thinking of how much of this life I still have to live to achieve it - Achieve what? - You know, what HE achieved... At this moment I frowned and she turned her body, looking somehow excited about what she was going to say. - What if... He was right? - Okay, now you're scaring me. - No, really. He just couldn't stand being here anymore, you know. And he was brave enough to finish what I started. At this moment I could'nt help but look at the scars she had on her arms. I wanted to say something, but I just took another cigarette instead and lighted it. She took it from my hands and put it against her lips again. I was so impressed by her ways and her moves that I almost forgot we were having a conversation. - I'm proud of him. - she said while resting her head on my shoulder. I got how sick that sounded. I understood it. I knew that something had to be done, but at that very moment I couldn't. I could barely breath. I was scared she could notice how fast my heart was beating. That's the begging of the story. That's how I let her go.