(Aaron's PoV - 11 years old)

I seemed to be in church, but I couldn't figure out why. From the back of the room, I couldn't see what was going on up front. It didn't seem like a regular service though. If it was, I probably wouldn't have been this curious.

Turning to my mom next to me, I asked, "What's going on?"

Instead of scolding me for talking out of turn, she just looked at me with pity. "Aaron, this is Connor's funeral."

It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of my lungs. Despite feeling unsteady, I stood on the pew to be able to see a casket up front.

Ignoring me, my mom continued. "And no one knows what happened to him."

But I did. I was sure of it.

In the corner of the room, Jordan stood with a smug grin on his face. Enough anger built up inside of me to confront him.

"You did this!" I said through a strained voice.

He just smirked at me. "So what if I did? It's not like I'm gonna get in trouble for it. In a week or so everyone will forget he ever existed. Face it, Aaron, you're the only one who cares that he's dead."

"That's not true!" I shot back.

"Oh yeah?" he challenged. "Go ahead, name me one other person who will actually miss him and I'll turn myself in right now."

"You're not gonna get away with this," I managed to choke out in response.

He grabbed my chin, forcing my head upwards to make full eye contact. "But I already did," he pointed out. "No one's trying to figure out what happened because no one cares. Case closed, just like his casket."

I woke up suddenly. I was in my bed, not in church.

It was just a dream, I tried to tell myself, but that didn't stop me from crying.

Jordan hadn't actually killed Connor, but the situation wasn't entirely unrealistic. What if he wasn't all right and that's why I had the dream?

My wailing must have woken up my parents because my mom came into my room, incredibly groggy. "Aaron, what is going on?"

"Mom, I need to see Connor," I tried explaining through my hysterics.

She sighed. "Aaron, it's 3:00 in the morning."

"But it's important," I pleaded. "I had a dream that he-"

"You're too old for this," she cut me off. "Just try to calm down. Whatever happened, it was only a bad dream."

"But-"

"Other people in this house are trying to sleep. Go back to bed."

"Yes, mom," I said through tears. There was no use in arguing.

I tried obeying, but I just couldn't. Though I was tired, I didn't want to fall asleep again.