It feels like it’s been raining for days. A stubborn mist smothers the sky, blotting out any semblance of the sun. It’s been like this since he’s been gone. Weeks of downpours have become a convenient reason to avoid this place. That, and the fact I don’t believe in this place. But with each passing day, its pull draws me closer. I can’t put it off any longer. 

In our quaint town, whispers of the well’s legend are as common as the daily news. It’s said to be where life meets death—the liminal space between realities. The origin of both the well and its tale remains shrouded in mystery. Both have been around longer than the town itself.

I’d heard the well grants you a connection to a lost loved one on the other side—if you’re willing to part with your most treasured possession. A price worth paying for a moment’s more time.

I always told myself the stories were just folklore. I never had a reason to question that or to visit the well myself. Yet, with each sunrise and sunset, I feel an unyielding force drawing me near. I can no longer ignore its call. Once and for all, I’m prepared to discover if there’s any truth to the stories I’ve grown up hearing. I have to. For Elliot.

Nature’s chorus of birds and rustling foliage accompany my steps, coupled with my heavy breathing. With every breath, a misty exhale, I move deeper into the overgrown brush of the woods, where nature has all but claimed the pathway to the well. Its untouched state suggests that perhaps others share my skepticism of its gifts.

My thoughts drift back to that summer excursion a couple of years ago – my initial encounter with the well. Despite harboring significant doubts, I joined Elliot on that journey after his mother's passing. Maybe it's the recollection of that moment that beckons me here once more.

I’m not even sure if Elliot believed in the well any more than I did. But he was willing to do anything to see his mom again. He wasn’t ready to let her go. In the same way, I'm not prepared to let him go.

Things weren’t supposed to end like this. Not for us. We had our entire lives ahead of us.

Continuing my trek, I search for the two large oak trees that remain seared in my memory. They come together to a point, reaching toward the heavens. It’s underneath their canopy where the well lies.

I remember how eerie it felt being there. Something about the place made it seem as if time itself came to a stop. Elliot and I spent what felt like a few minutes there, only to find it had been closer to six hours upon leaving. To this day, just the thought of the place creeps me out. But it’s worth it if it means being able to see Elliot again.

As kids, I watched as Elliot dropped what had been his grandfather’s ring into the well. It was something he treasured with all his heart. Elliot swears he saw his mom afterward and had a conversation with her. I was at his side the entire time, yet I never saw anything. A part of me believes his brain saw what it wanted as a way of providing him a sense of closure.

Is that the reason I’m drawn there now?

Things were so different before the world completely changed. The school hallway buzzed with its usual chaos—lockers slamming, laughter echoing, snippets of conversations blending into a familiar hum. I stood by my locker, half-listening to Elliot ramble about some ridiculous YouTube video he’d watched the night before, when the PA system crackled to life.

"Attention students and faculty. School will be dismissed early today. Please gather your belongings and head home promptly. Further instructions will be communicated as we receive them. Thank you."

The voice echoed down the corridor, cutting through the noise and sending an immediate ripple of confusion through the crowd. Conversations stalled, replaced by hurried whispers and murmurs.

“What’s that about?” Elliot asked, turning to me, his brow furrowed.

I shrugged, slamming my locker shut. “No idea. They never let us out early. This is weird.”

“You think it’s, like, something serious?” he said, lowering his voice like we might get in trouble just for asking.

“I don’t know,” I said, shifting my bag onto my shoulder. “Probably not. Just text me when you get home, okay?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he said, nodding, but his tone wasn’t exactly reassuring.

We stood there for a second, both pretending not to notice how off the whole thing felt. The crowd started pushing toward the exits, and we got caught up in the flow. No one realized it would be the last time some of us would see each other. 

            So began our lives in isolation.

So began our lives in isolation.

Elliot and his dad lived nearby, so we’d see each other regularly from a distance. I passed the time texting Elliot late into the night. I miss holding your hand, I’d typed after we reminisced about ice cream dates and afternoons in the park. Same, he’d replied. Neither of us could have imagined what was coming. We thought we’d be able to maintain our bubble and weather the storm easily. Everyone was told the town was safe. We deluded ourselves into believing we were invincible. By the time our bubble inevitably broke, there was no one left to protect us.

My mind drifts to the last time I saw him as I ramble through the overgrown brush of the forest. The image of him lying there and the sounds of the machine are scorched in my brain. Each labored breath rings through my ears.

Click.

Wheeze.

Click.

Wheeze. 

Despite his body being ravaged, he continued to fight as long as he could. I held on to the hope he would pull through, but deep down, I knew he was tired of fighting.

"I'll be okay if you can't fight anymore," I lied to him. In the end, it was a stranger who held his hand when he left this world behind.

Clearing the last of the brush from my path, I emerge into a clearing. I spot the two overgrown oak trees ahead. It’s as if I stepped into a vacuum, as the silence is deafening. Not even the sound of the birds remains. What little sunlight had crept out from behind the clouds is blotted out entirely underneath the tall canopy of trees.

I approach the stone-clad well and immediately notice how much smaller it seems compared to what I remember. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my selected offering: Elliot’s class ring, a replacement for his grandfather’s. It's been my most prized possession since Elliot gave it to me the night he first told me he loved me. I swore I’d hold on to it forever.

Standing frozen at the well’s base, I’m not sure how much time has passed. I stare down the well, never seeing its bottom, as all I can make out is darkness staring back at me. Looking at the ring in my hand, I hesitate. I’m crazy for even considering this. But, if there’s even the slightest possibility the well is real, I have to take the chance. 

Putting the ring to my lips, I gently kiss it, whispering a silent prayer before letting it fall from my hand into the darkness. I stand there, unsure of what to expect next, as I continue to be met by the utter silence of my surroundings.

“That may have just been the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” I tell myself, immediately regretting my decision. It was bad enough losing Elliot. Now his ring is gone too. 

“I’m sorry, Elliot,” I say aloud, hoping that speaking his name will provide me a sense of comfort. I look back to the bottom of the well, searching for some sign this wasn’t all a folly. Instead, I’m only met by the deafening silence. The realization begins to creep in. Elliot is really gone.

I take a seat in the grass beside the well, ignoring the dampness seeping up the back of my pants from the wet grass. The tears begin to well in my eyes.

“I must have been crazy to think this would work,” I whisper, leaning my head back against the well as I close my eyes. My mind is filled with all the things I wanted to say to Elliot. Did he know he was by far the best thing to ever happen to me? A part of me knows I’ll never be able to open my heart again?

“You promised you’d always be here for me, yet here I am, all alone,” I spit at the air, surprised at my sudden anger. Anger at him for dying. “I never knew you were such a liar.”

The words feel freeing, if only for a moment. Opening my eyes, I realize how foolish this all is. Elliot isn’t here. 

I stand to walk away but am overcome by a gust of wind coming from nowhere. It blows past me as I hear faintly, “You're not alone...” It’s as if the words are carried on the wind itself. 

The voice is unmistakable to me. So much so, it makes every hair on my head stand on end.

I turn back to the well but see nothing. Is my mind playing tricks on me?

“Just my imagination,” I mutter, taking a few steps further away.

“You’re not imagining it, Robby," I hear the voice say. This time there’s no mistaking it. I know for sure it’s Elliot. He’s the only person I ever let get away with calling me Robby.

From behind me, I feel a blistering heat, unlike anything I've ever felt before, radiating against my body. As I close my eyes, afraid to turn around, I sense a presence rest against my shoulder. Tears stream from my eyes.

“How did you do that?”

There’s no rational way for me to explain what’s going on.

"Because you let me." His voice is light and teasing, carrying a playful edge that makes it impossible not to imagine the grin he’d be wearing. The words linger in the air, daring me to respond as I slowly turn toward the sound.

I brace myself, ready to dismiss it as my imagination running wild. But I’m not prepared for what I see. Elliot. Standing there, watching me as my body begins to tremble.

He stands there, a cavalier expression across his face. As if it’s perfectly normal for him to be here.

“It really worked,” I say in disbelief. “You're here.” 

“I made you a promise I would always be here for you.”

I turn back to face the well, filled with questions. 

“What is this place? How is any of this possible?”

Elliot inches closer to me. I think to back away, but almost instinctively, I find myself drawn closer to him.

“The separation between life and death is a fragile line,” he tells me as we stand here in the clearing. “Whatever this place is, it allows that line to blur, if only for a time.”

“How long?” I ask, afraid to take my eyes off him. I already sense I won’t like his answer.

“Not long.”

I take in his words, my anger returning as I comprehend their meaning.

“But that isn’t fair,” I spit, stepping away from him. “It’s like losing you all over again.”

“It’s how things have to be,” he says to me. There’s a certainty present in his voice. “I know this isn't what we wanted, but you have to consider this a gift.”

“You think this is a gift?” I turn back to face him. “Do you know how absurd that is?”

“Not everyone gets this,” he says. His expression remains steadfast and unwavering.

“What, a chance to torment themselves?”

“A chance to say goodbye.”

I slump back down beside the well, taking Elliot’s hand as he sits down with me. “This just isn't fair,” I repeat for what must be the hundredth time. “We were supposed to have the rest of our lives.”

“You'll move on.” His statement is absurd to me. How can he expect me to just forget about him?

“How can you say that to me?” I ask, angered by his statement.

“Because it’s true,” he says, an irresistible twinkle present in his eyes. "Someday, you'll make peace with this. You'll leave this town behind. Maybe even fall in love.”

“You don’t know that,” I argue. I’m determined to make Elliot see my point of view. I’ve never been one to give up an argument without a fight. “Besides, there’s a problem with your whole scenario.”

“What’s that?” He looks at me puzzled, unsure of what I'm about to say.

“I’m already in love—with you," I tell him, noticing his demeanor begin to soften. He begins to laugh, which confuses me.

"Why are you laughing?"

"I see you're as stubborn as always."

Because of his remark, I can’t help but laugh along with him.

“You used to like that about me.”

He smiles, “I still do.” It’s easy how we’ve fallen into familiar patterns. For a moment, I forget what this actually is—a final goodbye. It dawns on me I hadn’t considered the ramifications of Elliot being here with me. Does his presence somehow disrupt the natural order of things on the other side?

“What’s it like where you are?” I ask, an attempt to justify my decision.

“I’m at peace,” he says. There’s a certainty to his words that gives me no choice but to believe him.

I can feel what moments we have left slipping away. We sit together with our backs leaned against the well. My hand is firmly entwined in his, trying to savor the moment as I hold on to him for dear life. I'm afraid even to blink. What if he's gone when I open my eyes?

“We don’t have much time left,” Elliot reminds me. My mind races, realizing how much I still want to say—the questions I want to ask.

“Can I ask you something?” I look over at him, remembering the last time I was here.

“Anything,” he nods.

“When you came here to talk to your mom, what did she say?”

A smile instantly comes over his face as he looks back at me. “She said she wanted me to live.”

He certainly knows how to hammer home his point.

“Don’t go,” I plead with him, leaning into an embrace. Closing my eyes for just an instant, I try to make the moment last forever. “I love you.” 

I feel the warmth of his hand reach for mine, sliding something into it as I hold on to him for dear life, not wanting this to end. I know, when I open my eyes, he’ll be gone.

“I want you to live,” I hear him say. Another strong gust of wind blows between us.

I open my eyes to find myself all alone. I feel the empty pit in the bottom of my stomach I’ve grown familiar with. Looking at my hand, I notice it hanging loosely open. Just moments ago, I had felt Elliot’s touch there.

I’m startled by the object I find tucked into my palm—a ring. I realize quickly it’s not the ring I dropped into the well. It’s the one that belonged to Elliot’s grandfather. The one I watched him drop into the well himself all those years ago.

But how?

I quickly push the thought from my mind. Instead, I focus on the fact Elliot had entrusted me with his most treasured possession. Looking at the well, I know it’s served its purpose. It allowed me to say goodbye.

Clutching onto the ring, I realize it’s Elliot’s way of reminding me he’s still with me. I stand up from the spot where I’d slumped down against the well and slowly walk away.

Departing the clearing, in the distance, I can hear Elliot’s voice say, “I love you, too,” as if on a whisper in the wind. Somewhere, at this very moment, I know he’s with his mom, smiling. For a moment, at least, things seem better.

The sunlight creeps out from behind the clouds. An air of hope seems to spring forth. I’m alive—I’m going to be okay. Elliot made sure of that.