I breathed out, my breath showing like puffs of smoke in the cold December air. Shivering, I tugged at my coat, as if the futile action would heat me up twofold.

I reached the bench, sweeping rust-coloured leaves off the surface before sitting down. I laid a single white rose down on the wood beside me, knowing that a random kid was just going to come over later and take it or knock it off. It comforted me, though, so I did it.

I ran my finger over the plague as I let out a shaky breath.

'In memory of
Alessia Trent
28/08/2000 - 10/10/2018'

That's what the plaque read. After persuading the local council that Alessia was not a murderer, but a vulnerable girl who was being attacked in her own school, she got her own bench. I felt that she needed something like that, a token from me to say...to say that I'm sorry. It was brutal to be targeted in the ways that she was, and by faces so familiar, yet that discarded her so easily.

I closed my eyes. When I did that, I remembered. Having lived her life for seven months, it was easy to see things from inside her shoes; it was a beautiful nightmare. My mum had called it that a week after I had returned home, and I had continued to call it that ever since. No one believed me—that I had lived as another person for seven months, but been in a coma for only one.

They were right, it was absurd. Yet I still believe it, and sometimes, I think my parents do too, and Dylan. He tells me that it's plausible, because of everything I know now, that I couldn't have known before—everything about Dylan and Alessia. He told me he'd believe only what made sense to him, and that's all I could possibly ask for.

I could never quite escape her, too, it's like she never really left. Except for seeing her face in most mirrors, I also hear her every now and then. It's up to you now, Olivia, she says. That's what she tells me.

My therapist wrote it off as PTSD from being stabbed when I had told her, but I wonder if perhaps it really is Alessia. I lived in her life for so long...maybe now she's living in mine.

But I didn't want to think like that, I didn't want to restrict my body to simply being a vessel. I did want mine and Alessia's story, though, to be a vessel of change. I wanted to show the world that words hurt, that you can't just hurt people and get away with it, that your actions have implications. I also wanted to remind people that just watching as someone repeatedly drowns can never be right; everyone must at least try to help. That's why Alessia was already gone by the time I realised—she just needed someone to see, to actually see.

"Oh, Alessia," I said, breathing out as I opened my eyes. "What should I do now?"

We were currently campaigning to sue the school for not supporting Alessia, but the case suddenly became tricky when we realised that Alessia had never actually asked for help whilst she was there. But still, the bullying was so clear, so evident—even teachers enjoyed mocking her from time to time.

We were also working to set up charities in Alessia's name; trying to raise funds for those affected by bullying or child abuse. It was difficult, but I just really wanted to do it. For Alessia, for her life.

We just wanted to raise awareness, to let everyone know Alessia's story. They had to know.

I would be attending some interviews once my therapist declared that I was fit for them, and I would use the publicity to spread the message. Our project was called 'Help The People' and was under the 'Alessia Trent Trust'. We just wanted to make a difference—I just wanted to be the difference that I couldn't be for Alessia.

I patted at my dry tears with my coat sleeve, before drawing it in closer to my body and crossing my arms over my chest. Letting my eyes wander, I saw as a group of primary school children played. At first, I enjoyed watching them play their imaginary games until I noticed a boy that had been left out.

I scanned the park for any signs of parents, but there were none, and so I continued to watch the boy with a frown on my face. Soon, another boy launched a ball, and I watched as it soared past me before glancing back to see the lonesome boy running in my direction.

I rose from the bench, trudging over to the kids' playground as the boy searched through the nettles and the bushes for the ball.

"Hey guys," I said, approaching them.

They threw me looks. "We aren't supposed to talk to strangers." A girl said pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest.

I smiled. "You're smart kids, then," I said, making her beam, "but what about being kind? Why can't that other boy join in?" I asked them, gesturing to the boy who was still concealed behind the trees.

A boy, carrying an abundance of sticks, shrugged, "He never does."

"Maybe you should invite him to play; he probably wants to," I suggested, frowning over at the boy who was still searching.

"He doesn't want us to talk to him, can you go now?" The boy who had been holding the sticks said, whilst shoving them into holes in the slide.

"I'll talk to him," I heard a meek voice say, and turned to see a small blonde girl holding a toy plane and, what looked like, a fairy doll.

I grinned at her, "I'm sure he'll thank you for it." I said, before deciding that I had overstayed my welcome.

I turned around to leave, seeing the boy rise to brush his hair back quickly before ducking back down again. As I approached the bench, I saw him rise again.

"Did you find your ball?" I asked him, standing beside the bench. He looked between me and the other kids who continued to play.

He nodded silently.

I smiled, "That's good."

He nodded again but then furrowed his eyebrows at something besides me. "What's that?" He asked, causing me to turn.

I laughed, picking it up. "It's a white rose."

His frown deepened, inspecting it. "Why not a red one?"

I twiddled it between my index finger and my thumb, being mindful of the thorns. "It's a symbol of remembrance," I told him, gazing down at it. I could almost see Alessia's bright emerald eyes in the petals. Almost.

"Remembrance?" He asked, struggling with the word slightly, "Did you forget something?" He asked, making me chuckle.

"No," I informed him, suddenly becoming thoughtful as I glanced back over to the children who I had just been talking to. And there she was—the blonde girl holding the plane and the fairy; she was waiting for the boy.

I smiled, holding it out to him, "Why don't you give it to that girl? The blonde one." I proposed, watching him look confused for a few seconds.

"Bethany?" He asked, pondering this before taking it from my hands and peering at it one more. "Sure," he said, making me smile, "but what is she supposed to remember?" He asked.

I shook my head, "No, it means new beginnings too." I told him. He didn't even question it, he just grinned and turned around, running towards the playground.

They exchanged a few words, and then he handed it to her. She beamed at him before seizing him, and I watched peacefully as they hugged.

"I've got the ribbons and medals for tomorrow," A voice said behind me, making me jump slightly. The person placed a palm on my back, and I leaned back into him. "You watching anything interesting?" He asked.

I grinned, watching the boy and girl join in with the games, before turning to face Dylan. I encircled my arms around his neck, making him smile.

I shook my head, "No, but now I am." I kissed him, watching as he laughed when I pulled away.

"Cheesy." He commented, making me roll my eyes. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer, and I let my head rest into the crook of his neck as I watched a flock of birds stream across the sky. They dipped and rose, each following the same precise movement.

Shortly after Dylan had explained that the aforementioned display in the sky was called a murmuration, we began to leave the park, and I started to ponder what life would be like now if Dylan had got here in time in October. If I had left in time; if I hadn't been stabbed.

But that was it, really, wasn't it? Alessia was set; Alessia was done. She'd thought about it every night, right under my nose. All the warning signs were there; even when I lived her life I still didn't see it.

Looking back now, it was so, so obvious. It was just there, blindingly obvious the entire time. But I chose to ignore it, thinking that I could fix Alessia.

Truth is, it's harder to fix things that are broken when half of the pieces are already lost, already scattered. Perhaps if I had tried earlier, the fragmented pieces would still be there. And then maybe Alessia would still be here.

But that's not how the world worked out. Alessia isn't here. And now I know, I had to live her life to know, that all I needed to do was notice her pain and help her.

All I had to do was help her.

All we need to do now is help them.

We need to help people, whether they're in pain or not, whether they ask for your help or not. We need to be kinder, more compassionate and empathetic.

And we can do it all in the name of Alessia Trent.

All in the name of, and to honour, Her Life.

________________________________

*cries in several different languages*

well, uhh

that's it guys

technically it's the next day but I WILL NOT LET THIS BOOK END ON A 13TH

it's still the 12th in America.. and uh... I'm sure other great places so IT COUNTS OKAY

anyway

that's it guys
that's all of Her Life

-now I'll go cry in the corner

FABULOUS SONGS

Songs that played when I was writing this chapter (in order):
Home - Gabrielle Aplin
Run and Hide - Sabrina Carpenter
Irrelevant - Lauren Aquilina
Dancing On My Own - Calum Scott
Holding Onto Heaven - Foxes
This World Of Ours - RAIGN
Young And Beautiful - Lana Del Rey
Lie for Love - Sabrina Carpenter
Emerge Part 1 - Ruelle
Salvation - Gabrielle Aplin
Mended - Vera Blue
DNA - Lia Marie Johnson

END OF FABULOUS SONGS

Date written:
23/10/18 (2 days before posting)
27/10/18

H E R  L I F E
25/10/18 - 12/04/19

25/10/18 - 12/04/19
H E R  L I F E