Part Seven- The Feather as a Whole

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It was a week after Mika's death that Milo finally woke up. After months of thinking he was going to die or the equipment was going to fail and kill him, he woke up to the terrible truths of how long he'd been unconscious, of me and Mika's fight, and, inevitably, her suicide.

When I told him about the death, he just sat in his hospital bed. His gaze was at the floor, overgrown hair getting in the way of his face. His wings drooped a little. As I looked closer at them, I noticed there were less spots on them then when he went under. They still had spots, but were more like speckles than big dots and dashes of brown with white seeping though them.

"... She called Jemilia first?" He asked.

"Why else would she call me that late at night?" I sighed, shifting a little in my chair. Part of me wanted to sit with him and just squeeze the life out of him because it had been so long to see him actually moving and talking, but the other half was in shock because of it and that of Mika's death. "She told me that Mika apologized for hurting her, and that she didn't deserve to live because of it... I want to blame myself and take back everything I say but--"

"She asked for it."

"Huh?"

"Mika followed you and hoped to get on your nerves, and she did," Milo said, looking back up at me. "She got a reality check because of that decision, and it was too much for her to handle."

"I still shouldn't hav--"

Milo got out of his bed and put a hand over my mouth. I was about to object because I though he was going to pass out again because the doctors had told him that he was still too weak to be moving around too much. He leaned in towards my face, and sighed heavily. "Clare, I'm not saying she deserved to die. I'm saying she couldn't live with herself when she realized how horrible she had been to everyone. You told her the cold truth when she edged you on, and it was something she just couldn't handle."

He took his hand away. "Don't be upset with yourself. That's all I'm asking from you. There's nothing that anyone can do to reverse the situation. We just have to move on."

I sat there quiet. I knew I had lost control of myself and that it was because of my actions that lead to Mika killing herself. Because of me she realized her life, to her, meant nothing. She just couldn't embrace her true self, that vanilla jellybean deep inside her self that made Mika... Mika. She had to obey the stereotypes that the popular people, the chocolate and strawberry jellbeans, always had. She embraced them until she didn't know who she was anymore, always trying to escape the part of her that was lost and searching for a friend while her mother was in the other room smoking away her life crystal by crystal.

It made me wonder what kind of person she was back then. She had to of been happy, at least before her dad died. She must of been shy too, after the death and her mother's addiction I mean. Though... she must have always been persistent too. After Milo encouraged her to get her mom into rehab, she had to of been. Persistent and stubborn, like she always had been. Smart too because she still got good grades in class, sometimes better than mine. It was weird because I still had Mika's image in my head as I put this all together. The mean parts... they didn't fit when I thought that way.

Milo lost his balance, but I caught him in time. "Doctor told you that you weren't strong enough, Milo."

"I'm not weak, I'm just--"

"Tired, but that's the same thing." I sighed and gave a small smile. "At least you're yourself after all of this, I was worried that you'd get amnesia or something."

"Nah," Milo laughed. "The moment I'd see you everything would come back to me."

I sat down the bed next to Milo, who decided it was better to sit than stand anyway. Even though we were close, I still felt lost. "... I wish Mika hadn't been so... you know. I think in the end she was amazing... it's just... she was so mean. It makes me want to forget her almost."

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