Its been weeks since Kenny died from a sickness they couldn't cure. His death was rough on everyone, his family, his friends and you. Mourning was rough, 'hallucinating' your dead friend was even worse. Sitting in your room after an especially rough day with an incomplete friend group. "You like like shit" the familiar voice snickered, leaning on your bedpost with a little grin, his feet floating just barely above the ground, the white feathery wings sprouting from his back suspending him.