Despite the numbing effect of the frost, the tears sting. She's assuring me that she'll write often, but I hear only the sputtering engine of the bus. I nod and stare through the snow covering my loafers, mumbling "I'll write too." Then silence.

"You'd better go, everyone's waiting."

We hug for the last time and I watch her boots trudge backward so I won't have to look into her green eyes anymore. When I look up, the back half of the bus fades away and I'm alone with the white trees. Closing my eyes, I see my family back home shouting around the dinner table. I ask my sister about her trip but only the tree seems to understand my interest; I tell my brother how much I care about him, but the dinner argument is too loud and my words fall to the ice. I run out of the kitchen and pick up my guitar but somehow it slips out of my hand and crashes through the floor. I kneel in the snow to pick up the pieces, but my friend is once again before me. She reminds me that we will never meet again. Though I repeat over and over that I love her, she doesn't seem to notice. I speak up, fearing that I'm mumbling once again, or that I wasn't clear, but to no avail. I hear the echo of my voice, but it sounds hollow so I shout. Maybe now she'll hear me.

"I love you! I love you!"

At first I don't understand why I'm invisible today, but then I remember that she has left and taken me with her. I can rest now, having departed with my friend. I need not stay here. I reach into my pocket and finger the capsules. The snow embraces me as I swallow, and my bed feels warm as it turns from white to black; all of a sudden, I find a voice. Finally, someone will hear me.