Just last week, there was a killing near Jonas' house. Jonas was Matt's best friend, and he claimed he saw it all happen. Matt stood in the graveyard recollecting what his friend told him from a few days back.

"'Twas about three o'clock in the mornin'," started Jonas, "about when the dog went and woke me up. I swear, those crazy animals beg ya to let them out, and once they're out there (and you're startin' to climb the stairs), they start yelpin' away again, so's they can come back in.

"Anyways, I got meself out of bed and let the mutt out. Weird thing is, she ran from the house like a bloody lightning bolt. Now ye've got to understand, me dog's a wee bit lackin' in the speed department, and I've nae seen her run so fast in all me life!" Jonas' accent was quite strong, but Matthew got used to it since he moved outside of Crookhaven over a year ago.

"I put on me shoes and tried to chase after it. As luck would have it, the dog stopped just short of the woods. And that was when I saw her." Jonas' voice quieted down a bit, as if he was reliving that night. "It was Mary Brennart. Now the moon was none too bright, but I could still see her...looking for something, 'cause she was peekin' 'round the corner of every tree. Then out of nowhere, this man up'n'appeared right in front of her! I'd nae seen anything like it in all me life! Mary seemed to have recognized him though, 'cause she smiled when he approached her. Then me dog started wailin' away again. I told her to 'Shut the hell up!' and she actually listened for once.

"But when I looked up, Mary and himself were gone! Now I'd only glanced away for a second or two, and not nobody can get away that fast. The whole thing scared the crap outta me, so I ran back home with me dog and hid meself under the sheets. Next mornin', I heard they found Mary dead on the shore."

Matthew remembered all of this and wondered if it had anything to do with Clarisse's death.

After the funeral service, Matt looked around. He dared not shed a tear, for the village elders were present. Though they knew that death was a time of great sorrow, they held strong to the belief that a grown man should never cry. The elders said it would be dishonourable for a man to show his grief in public. And in this small Irish town, honour was the most important thing a man could have, next to a woman who could cook, but they never admitted that to their wives. By town rule, it seemed Matt was not entitled to cry.

Jonas, came to the funeral as well, but the redhead spaced himself from his friend. He could only imagine what Matthew must be going through, and thought it best to leave him alone.

Sick of the elders and their inane ideology, and realizing that a storm was brewing overhead, Matthew turned to Clarisse's parents and said goodbye.

When Jonas saw that Matt was going to leave, he rushed over to talk with him. "Listen, Matt. If ye need someone to talk to, you can stay over at my place later on."

Matthew considered it, then said, "If it's okay with you, sure. But I could use a friend right now, too... Walk with me, Jonas."

As the two young men exited the cemetery, they walked under an angel cast in gold, emblazoned atop the gateway. The tired sun awakened and illuminated the angel, reflecting on the ground a path of light, leading from Matthew toward Clarisse's body. Though solid and immobile, the angel knew that Clarisse and Matthew could not live without each other. But Matthew couldn't see the light, for he was walking with Jonas in the opposite direction. The sun proceeded to set lazily behind the hills, casting the angel in darkness.

"You know, Jonas," started Matt, "before I moved to Ireland, I was going out with this girl named Sharry. She was a great person to be around. Everybody knew her. Sharry got top marks in school, was prom queen in her senior year, and came from a family that was very well off."

Suddenly, Matthew had the pressing need to sneeze. He tried to stall the soon-to-be-explosion while searching clumsily through his pockets for something to control the impending disaster. Jonas noticed his friend's dilemma and handed him his own handkerchief. But by that time, Matt's urge to splurge subsided. Taking in a breath of air, he tried to recollect his thoughts. "Thanks for the effort, Jonas. Now...where was I?"

"You were sayin' somethin' about some girl who had so much freakin' money, that she wiped her arse with it."

Matt thought about that one for a minute (because he was really slow when it came to jokes), and when he finally got it, he gave Jonas a swift nudge with his elbow. "Hey, smart-ass, don't talk about my ex like that. You don't even know the whole story. It gets better.

"Like I was saying, Sharry was born into a rich family. Her parents held these high-society parties every now and then, and since I was Sharry's boyfriend, lucky me, I got invited.

"So at one stuck-up-rich-guy party, Sharry took me around and introduced me to some of her upper-class friends. Seeing that all of the butlers were otherwise occupied, Sharry's mom asked her to go inside and get the cake. That gave me the chance to ditch those snobby preppies and grab some grub. While I was parading around the buffet table, I ran into an old friend of mine from grade school." Matthew had an aura of bliss about him, as he recalled his old friend's figure from his mind. "Her name was Marsha Worthington."

An obscenely frigid wind whisked by the two young men. They stopped their nonchalant walking, both visibly chilled and confused. Matt's black cotton dress shirt and pants did little to protect him from the wind. For an instant, the unnatural phenomenon passed right through his expensive designer clothing (which he imported himself), causing his entire body to feel like a very large, very thick, and very cold block of ice.

But only for an instant. The feeling was so eerie, in fact, that if he didn't know any better, Matt would have sworn that a ghost just passed through him.

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"Fall must be coming early this year," reasoned Matthew as he shook the shivering sensation from his body.

"Felt more like winter, if ye ask me."

Matt gave him a broad stare that said Thanks, Mr. Know-It-All. "Can I continue?" he asked, perhaps a little too sarcastically.

"Well, I'm sure you can."

Matthew allowed that cheap remark to slip by. "Anyways, me and Marsha had a lot of catching up to do..."

"Stupid Yanks!" thought Jonas. Speaking sotto voce, he mumbled, "Marsha and I."

"What was that?" asked Matt, turning his head toward his friend.

"Nothing." Jonas' smirk evolved only after Matthew bowed his head back to the ground. Although both young men seemed to walk in unison, Matthew took longer strides. Jonas heard from one of the elders that anyone who took long steps was overconfident and egotistical. He never thought Matthew was like that, but he wouldn't put it past the people from Matt's homeland.

"Well, me and Marsha hadn't seen each other in a while, so as soon as she recognized me, she wrapped herself around me and kissed me on the lips. Now, you have to understand, it was just a nice-to-see-you kiss, nothing passionate."

"'Course it was," thought Jonas. "I know where this is heading."

"That day was just getting better for me, and wouldn't you know it? Who should be watching all of this going on, but my significant other whom I'd been dating for quite a while, who I was very much in love with. Sharry was pretty mad, which isn't something you'd wanna be the receiving on. Especially when she just happens to be carrying an elephant-sized chef's knife, which under normal circumstances should be used to cut vegetables, not cakes. Sharry let the cake fall to the ground, and charged toward me and Marsha with the cleaver.

"Oddly enough, she pushed me out of the way, and aimed straight for Marsha. She stabbed wildly at her chest, all the while shouting, 'You can't have him! He's mine! How dare you!' I grabbed Sharry from behind by both her arms and threw her clear of Marsha. But I was too late to save her. My girlfriend insisted, 'I did it for you, so no one would come between us! I love you Matt!' And then I realized she was completely insane. Her parents were stupefied. They sent her to an asylum the next day."

"The people you think you know..." remarked Jonas.

"You're telling me. I came to Ireland to get away from all that. Swore I'd never fall in love again, but all that ended when I met Clarisse."

Thunder crashed loud enough to assure them the storm was getting closer. "Listen, Jonas, I'll come by your house a little later. Right now, I think I just need to be alone."

A little while ago, Jonas thought he heard Matt say he needed a friend. But he understood all too well what the effects of death can do to a man's mind. "Sure, then. I'll see ya later."

Jonas headed for home, leaving Matthew in his sullen, bewildered state. Matt drifted into the forest which lived alongside the path he walked on - a place he knew very well. For it was in this very forest that he met Clarisse.

He sauntered through the endless rows of trees, until he came upon the outcropping where he'd first seen her. The scenery was taken out of a fairy tale. Amidst the shade of a number of willows, Matt remembered her sitting atop the outcrop with a book in her hands - one of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson's works, as she was quite fond of his unique style. As if it was happening in front of him, Matthew could picture her reclining like a mermaid, thoroughly engulfed in the craftsmanship of a master.

He went to kneel right by the place where Clarisse sat, and felt the cold earth under his touch where there was once warmth. Matt asked himself why it had to happen, why it had to be her. He couldn't escape that answerless question.

"WHY...?!?" His voice resonated throughout the woods, echoing at a myriad of volumes and distances. That was the only thing he wanted to know. He wanted an answer. No, he demanded an answer. And dammit, he deserved one.

"Matthew..." A person who felt so near, yet seemed too far spoke his name in a loud whisper. Matthew's head darted from side to side. He spun around, anxiously searching for the person who addressed him. Though that person was nowhere to be seen, there was no mistaking it.

It was Clarisse.

He wasn't one to normally drink, but right now, Matthew needed something to calm his nerves. Jonas had just the thing: homemade scotch.

After a couple of mouthfuls of that foul-smelling liquid, Matt told his friend what happened to him in the forest. The Irishman tried to come up with some sort of joke to bring Matt out of his shock, but he could think of nothing, for he, too, was quite perturbed by everything he heard. "Why dontcha get ready for bed? Sleep'll do ya good."

Jonas left his friend at the kitchen table and went off to his own room to try and count sheep. "Not bloody likely," he thought. Matt's story was just so bizarre that he'd probably be up all night trying to sort it out.

Matthew stared down into his glass which he emptied for the third time. He figured that he had more than his limit, so he headed to the bathroom to wash up, too lazy to close the door behind him.

But there was some kind of movement. Matt looked up into the mirror and saw the figure of Clarisse walking up the basement stairs toward him, opposite the bathroom door. He became enchanted by her appearance, because she looked exactly like the way he remembered her, when they first met.

She spoke in the same uncanny manner that Matthew heard in the forest. "Matthew...come to me."

Matt felt the water between his hands turn poignantly freezing. He shut the water off and turned to face his lost love, but once again, she disappeared.

The young man hastily dried off his face and ran out of the bathroom to search for Clarisse. He heard the patio door close, so he rushed to the french doors which protected him from the misty night, and thrust them open.

There, not far ahead, he saw the figure of Clarisse moving through the trees of the forest nearby. The faster he ran, the farther it seemed she was. "She's come back to me. I knew she wouldn't leave me."

He followed her all through the forest until they reached the shoreline. Matt finally caught up to her and saw her standing at the water's edge, wearing an elegant, snow-white dress. "She's so very beautiful. I can't imagine my life without her."

Clarisse beckoned to him with outstretched arms. "Matthew, my darling...now we can finally be together..."

Matthew walked towards her with all the patience of eternity, embraced his soulmate, and kissed her politely upon her lips. Clarisse wrapped her delicate wings around him, casting him in infinite darkness. Finally, Matthew's life was complete.

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