THURSDAY AFTERNOON

Amy stacked the dishes and drink cans from lunch on the desk, and returned to the bed where Megan waited, relaxing on her back. Megan's eyes tracked Amy, her lips curved in a contented smile.

They were, like Megan and Shawna a few days ago, spending twenty-four hours together in their room. Neither of them had spoken much. It wasn't even necessary to say "I love you," for now. It was time for touching. They had made love twice this morning, and would again tonight, several times.

Lying down beside her, Amy reached out to roll Megan towards her, her left arm underneath Megan, forearm raised behind her, hand pressed flat on Megan's back below her shoulder. Pushing her right leg between Megan's, Amy draped her right arm along Megan's side, spreading her fingers across Megan's buttock. She pressed her lips against Megan's and kept them there, not kissing, just sharing the air Megan breathed.

Amy had a very good sensory memory. It had always helped her as a Hanging Girl, her body always able to reproduce the muscular movements that made her feel right in the noose. She knew she would always, in coming days, be able to remember the way Megan felt against her right now. It was, as always, nice to feel Megan's breasts pressed against her own, feel her heartbeat underneath. But more important at this moment, she would retain the memory of the feel of Megan's stomach pressed flat against hers, remember the slow rhythm of pressure as they both breathed, sharing it through their mouths.

The taste of her breath.

Breath. Nobody thinks about breath as much as a Hanging Girl does, Amy told herself. Most people rarely gave it a thought at all, in fact. Breath is a prime focus of a Hanging Girl's studies. How the respiratory system works in concert with the circulatory system. How to make use of breath as efficiently as possible. Training the body to find breath whenever and wherever it is available. She and Megan had worked out techniques for breathing, for their shows, that Amy didn't think had been tried before.

Breath itself is a lover. A Hanging Girl considers it constantly, responds to the need for it, feels the sweet yearning for it when it is gone, knowing it will return. And willingly gives it up forever when the right time comes, just as any woman joyously parts from her loved ones when it is time move on to her higher calling, to fill their stomachs with herself.

Amy took a long, deep breath, filling her lungs with Megan. Most of the air she breathed in, she would breathe right back out again. But some would stay.

She knew that she would have some of Megan in her stomach in just two days, and a portion of Megan would stay in her body as long as she lived. But so much more meaningful to consume Megan in her breath.

To know, always, that Megan was with her, whenever she breathed.

FRIDAY MORNING

Amy sat upright on the bed facing Megan, their legs around each other's waist, arms holding each other.

After a long kiss, Megan gave Amy a small smile and suddenly said, "I told Shawna I'd thought about sleeping with her every day, way back then. When we were roommates."

Amy's jaw dropped. "For real?"

Megan nodded.

"Honey, why didn't you?"

Megan grinned. "You know why. Tell me why."

"You were afraid getting involved with anybody would take away from your focus on hanging."

Megan nodded again. "I got pretty good at pushing the thoughts away. I'd think instead about Serena's hanging, I'd remember early hanging sessions with my coach, and how exciting that was. I'd fantasize about my own hanging." She frowned. "And I got pretty good at pushing people away too. That's another thing you know."

Amy nodded, then smiled suddenly. "You were sort of half-nice to me. Or at least not insulting. Maybe I should feel insulted about that, now. I guess you didn't feel threatened by any attraction to me."

Unexpectedly, Megan laughed. "Oh, wow. At least you didn't get everything about me figured out." She looked into Amy's eyes. "It's true I had you in kind of a different category, but you've got it turned around. Ask me what else I thought about when I was trying to get my mind off sex with Shawna or any of the other girls."

Amy could read it now, in Megan's face. Her eyes went wide. "Oh, come on."

Megan nodded, her eyes bright. "Okay, now you can see it. At night, while I'd be lying in bed, trying to fall asleep and not think about Shawna over in her bed... like I said, I tried to think about other stuff instead. All that hanging stuff, like I was just telling you, but also, when I wasn't careful, I'd imagine being with you. I tried not to, but I kept coming back to that."

It took effort for Amy to bring her jaw back up to speak. "When did that start?"

Megan bit her lip in thought, looking up at the ceiling. "After... about the first week, I guess."

Amy shook her head, stunned. "What about after I moved in? You could see how much I wanted you, right? You knew why I had to run into the bathroom after every time I helped you practice hanging." Amy remembered those post-practice masturbation sessions very well.

Megan looked away with a rueful smile. "I remember that. I felt so superior about that. I felt like I was handling my feelings better than you were, keeping my focus on hanging better than you. I told myself I'd be a better hanging girl, because of that. But I had to really start obsessing about hanging, just to get my mind off you. All that extra reading, and finally..." Megan blushed. "You know."

Amy could barely think. She knew exactly what Megan was referring to. That night, that life-changing night, when Megan had used Amy in an ill-considered hanging experiment.

As the memories rolled through Amy's head, Megan went on, "And you know I was never trying to kill you, right? I was all set to hit the drop button, like I told you. But I just... I wrapped myself up completely in hanging theory, and it led to... that. Just so I wouldn't have to... think about how it would feel to be with you."

Amy looked into Megan's eyes, and saw herself reflected there. Knowing, for the first time, the full extent of how much she and Megan belonged to each other. She pulled Megan closer and kissed her, feeling Megan's arms tighten around her.

She broke off the kiss. She started to speak, and realized Megan was speaking at the same time, both of them saying, "This is the last time."

One more time, Megan occupied all of Amy's senses -- the sight of her body, the sound of her moans, the touch of her skin rubbing against Amy's, the taste of her lips and tongue, the scent of her sweat as the excitement built. And Amy was plunged back in time, to the first time they had made love, the weeks of wanting Megan building up to the thrill of that moment... knowing now, for the first time, that Megan's excitement had been of exactly the same nature, based on the joy of union with the object of her fantasies. And the bridge between that first time and this last time made it seem as though they had been making love constantly for three years. And we really have, Amy thought. There's no first time and last time. Just the one, long time, and the memory of it will be clear enough, pure enough, to last me the rest of my life.

That was her final thought before the sensations of her body overwhelmed all thought.

FRIDAY AFTERNOON

Amy looked around the party hall. Around the sides of the room, some of the underclass girls were draping festive bunting and balloons, readying the hall for tomorrow's unprecedented big show. Vonda Bennett, the assistant dean, was supervising, organizing, offering suggestions on the decorations.

The hanging cage was gone. Members would have an unrestricted view of Megan, with no interference from metal bars. In place of the cage was a circular stage, four feet high and six feet in diameter, in the center of which the hanging platform was mounted. Surrounding the stage, a dozen metal pylons, each now wound with crepe ribbons of various colors, stood at a ten-foot radius. Angie, one of the Second Years, was securing one of a dozen thick red ropes, with hooks at either end, to rings at the top of adjacent pylons, creating a retaining line that the crowd would stay behind, as though Megan were a museum exhibit. Only Amy would be allowed inside the circular clear-zone around Megan.

Amy stood on the floor as Megan leapt onto the stage and up to the surface of the platform, watching as Megan examined the dangling noose, her fingers running softly along its inside surface.

Megan frowned. "It's been used. Can we get a new one?"

Amy turned. "Ms. Bennett? Megan wants a new rope."

Ms. Bennett nodded, and turned to the nearest girl. "Tracy, would you run and get one from the student store?"

Tracy nodded and ran out of the hall. Ms. Bennett directed Angie to go up onto the catwalk from which the rope hung and untie it.

Minutes later Tracy returned, and handed the new rope to Megan. Megan looked it over, again feeling it with her fingers, nodded, and quickly formed a hangman's knot at one end of it. She threw the other end up to Angie, who tied it in place while Megan held the knot at the appropriate height. Megan took hold of the rope above the knot, gave it several hard yanks, and used her arms to raise herself off the platform for several seconds, making sure the rope held her weight. She nodded up to Angie, who scrambled down from the catwalk.

Megan jumped down from the platform and walked out of the clear zone, between two pylons not yet sporting a rope between them. Keeping her eyes towards the platform, she slowly stepped sideways around the circle. She finally stopped at one point. Without looking at Amy, behind her, she said, "Amy, this is where I want Kathleen to be standing..."

She stopped suddenly, and spun around to look at Amy. Amy had no idea what sound she might have made, perhaps a momentary catch in her throat when Megan mentioned Kathleen.

Megan stared at Amy's face for a moment, reading... everything. Every thought that had run through Amy's mind in response to Megan saying Kathleen's name. At last Megan broke into a smile, a tear running down her cheek. She put her arms around Amy and held her close. "Thank you, Amy. Whatever you did, thank you." Without knowing details, she was somehow able to tell that Amy had worked desperately, and successfully, to ensure Kathleen's presence at her hanging.

Amy let loose some tears of her own. She thought about reminding Megan how much she loved her, that she would do anything for her. None of that seemed necessary. Amy just held her.

FRIDAY EVENING

Amy pulled open the door to the Hall of Honor, ignoring the polite "Cleaning - Please Wait" sign that Megan had taped to the door.

Megan had told Amy she would be spending the night there, nodding when Amy asked if she could join her, saying "But give me a couple of hours first."

Amy understood the significance of the Hall of Honor to Megan. Megan, she knew, wanted some time to talk to the heads. To tell them she had kept the promises she had made to them, so long ago.

Amy expected to see Megan stretched out on the mattress she had brought, but saw that Megan was sitting upright at one end of the mattress, motionless, cross-legged, leaning back against the wall facing a row of heads. Her eyes were closed. Her uniform lay folded neatly on the floor beside her.

Avoiding making a sound, Amy stripped off her own uniform. She knew sex was not on the program -- Megan's attention was now fully on planning for her hanging, and would be up to the moment the show started. Amy was simply preparing for a night's sleep. She lay down quietly on the remaining portion of the mattress, trying not to disturb Megan's concentration, if that were possible. Megan clearly wasn't asleep, Amy could see now, not in any type of normal slumber, anyway. Amy wasn't an expert, but some sort of trance was involved, she felt fairly sure. Amy had the sense that Megan was fully conscious, but not of the outside world. All of her attention was turned inward. At this close range, Amy could now see a pattern of muscular contractions, suggestive of the rhythms of hanging. A slight flexing of thigh muscles, a twitch of the muscles that would throw her hips forward, a sequence of slight tightening of muscles in shoulder, upper back, neck, that would be involved in the necessary moves for breathing. Megan, Amy understood, was rehearsing her hanging -- choreographing, in her mind, all of the moves she wanted to do, in the order in which she planned to do them. Amy smiled as she saw Megan give a tiny headshake suddenly, not as a hanging move but a sign of mental negation, as if deciding at that moment to discard one move and replace it with another. Amy felt sure that, while Megan's muscular movements were purely symbolic to Amy as an outside observer, Megan herself was fully experiencing the hanging, from start to finish.

After a few minutes, Amy was surprised to see she was not entirely correct. Megan had, in fact, spared a small space in her consciousness for recognition of the world surrounding her. She was holding her hand in the air, extended partway towards Amy. Megan knew, or a part of her knew, that Amy was there, though she wasn't sure exactly where Amy was.

Amy took Megan's hand, wrapped her fingers around it, and held it between her face and the mattress, palm cupped against her cheek, as though it were a small pillow. Content with that much of Megan, Amy fell asleep.

SATURDAY MORNING

Amy opened her eyes, somehow knowing instinctively not to move.

Directly in front of her, she saw Megan's navel. She could feel Megan's head resting on her inner thigh, using it as a pillow. Sometime during the night, Megan had satisfied herself with the state of her mental preparations to that point, and had stretched out on the mattress in front of Amy for one last sleep.

That was it, thought Amy, that's why I didn't want to move. Amy knew better than to wake Megan from the final recharging of her energy before her hanging. There was plenty of time before the show's scheduled start at 2 pm, and nothing left to do before then, other than eat breakfast.

For now, Amy was content to watch Megan's navel slowly rising and falling with her breathing.

On any other morning, Amy would have kissed Megan there, then moved farther south, to the folds of skin between Megan's legs, to lick her awake. Megan was already in perfect position to return the favor. But today was not for taking pleasure in each other's bodies. Today, Megan's communion with her inner self must be left undisturbed.

After about thirty minutes, Megan began stirring. She rubbed her eyes and stretched.

That shining was there, that Amy always saw in each girl on the day of her hanging. So bright, Megan's eyes, like the sun.

Megan smiled at Amy. "Hi, honey."

Amy grinned back. "Hi, yourself."

Megan sat up, put her arms around Amy and kissed her, then reached for her panties and began pulling them on. "Let's get some breakfast."

There were only a few girls in the caf -- on Saturday, most of the students slept in. Megan picked out a high-energy breakfast, not overly filling. Amy ate a little more than usual, enough to make it through to tonight's banquet.

Amy watched Megan as she ate, memorizing behavior she had never really watched consciously. The way she chewed her food. The way she brushed her hair aside when it fell in the way. Since Amy would never eat with her again, she wanted to complete the "Megan" she could hold in her mind until it was her own time to go.

Taylor, one of the Second Year girls, approached the table shyly. Not sure whether she should interrupt Megan's internal focus, she bit her lip and addressed her words halfway between Megan and Amy. "Okay to wish good luck?"

Amy looked at Megan. It appeared Megan hadn't heard the girl. Amy stroked Megan's hand. Megan blinked, and seemed to play back a recording of Taylor in her head. She smiled warmly at her. "Sure." She reached out, and Taylor bent to give her a hug, whispering, "I'm really excited. I know you'll be great."

Megan gave her a squeeze and patted her back.

One by one, each of the other girls present came by for a few words and a hug. Amy watched. Another Megan memory to hold onto.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

Amy sat on the bed behind Megan, in the private room in the party pavilion Megan had chosen for her ready room. Amy's legs were wrapped around Megan's waist, as she gave Megan a neck massage. Megan, already having shed her uniform for the last time, was wearing only a choker -- she'd chosen to wear the symbolic red slave collar of the Academy graduate, displaying her pride in reaching her goal. Sewn within its fabric was the heart monitor that would signal her death. Megan's eyes were closed, and she was working various muscle groups -- not a hanging rehearsal this time, just making sure she stayed loose while waiting for her show to begin.

Amy was wearing her graduate's uniform. She had considered wearing something more party-like, but decided she wanted to blend into the background, to the extent that she could, given the high visibility she would have during the show. There would be a number of other identical uniforms around the hall.

Amy could hear the rising murmur of conversation from the main party hall. The hall, she knew, was going to be crowded. Despite the high ticket price -- Amy wasn't sure of the exact figure, but the dean had hinted each ticket cost several thousand dollars -- a little over eighty had been sold. Amy decided she shouldn't feel surprised. In spite of, or perhaps because of, the number of hangings all of the members had seen, the chance to see Megan hang meant that much to them.

All of the students would also be present, along with the graduates, the first time they had ever all been allowed in the party pavilion at once.

Amy leaned forward to kiss Megan's neck, and said, "I should get out there for awhile, and greet your dad. And Kathleen."

Megan twisted around to kiss Amy on the lips, with a slightly absent smile. In the last twenty hours she had spared a minimum of attention to the world outside her body. "See you in a little bit."

As Amy entered the main hall, where two straight rope lines now created a corridor from the doorway leading to the private rooms, where Amy now stood, to the hanging stage in the center of the hall, the buzz of conversation rose momentarily -- every member present knew who she was, and her connection with Megan. Amy smiled and waved away their attention with a negative gesture -- No, not time yet. She ducked under one of the ropes and started weaving through the crowd, looking for Megan's father.

To the vibrant colors of the draperies surrounding the hall was now added the whites, aquas, deep blues, and reds of the students and graduates, some standing together in knots with friends, some mixing with the guests, chatting or answering questions. People were still entering through the main door. Amy couldn't spot Paul Sadler. She bit her lip, hoping everything would still go as it needed to.

She did see the dean, attending his first party since long before Amy had arrived as a student. She walked up to him, and waited for him to finish his conversation with the guest beside him and address her. Smiling, he asked, "Is Megan ready? No cold feet, I assume."

Amy laughed. The idea of an Academy graduate backing out of her own hanging was almost the most ludicrous thing she could imagine. "I believe she'll manage to go through with it, Sir." Her stomach tying in a sudden knot, she asked, "Is Megan's father still coming, Sir? As far as you know?"

The dean smiled again. "Stop worrying, Amy. I'm sure he would have called if his plans had changed. We're going to wait until everyone is here -- including Mr. Sadler. Tina is checking off names at the door. I think..." He looked around. "...about two thirds of the guests have arrived." He turned again to the guests around him. Amy turned the other way, and saw Melissa, Jana, and Holly together.

Melissa hugged Amy when she arrived. "This is probably a little different from my sister's hanging, huh?"

Amy shrugged. "Well, there are more people here. Andrew could never have managed to have this many friends." She grinned as the other girls laughed. "And it was outdoors, of course. The general excitement level was pretty similar. Miranda just looked so beautiful." Amy sighed, remembering that day, as she did so often.

Amy suddenly noticed Steffi, about twenty feet away. She kissed Melissa and gave Jana and Holly quick hugs. "I'll talk to you later. I need to go see Steffi."

She greeted Steffi with a very fond hug. "I just wanted to tell you again how grateful I am, for all your help."

"Any time." Steffi looked around. "I see he's not here."

Amy was momentarily puzzled, wondering how Steffi knew Paul Sadler, then realized she would be referring to someone else. "Andrew? No, I wouldn't think he'd be here. Members aren't getting private sex sessions with the students today, and he wouldn't come just to watch a girl hang. And I'm sure he's saving his money for whatever Big Thing he has in mind for me." She flashed Steffi a bitter smile.

"Apparently he hasn't put any plan into action."

Amy shook her head. "He hasn't had a chance. I haven't been off the grounds since you told me. I will eventually, but the dean is working out what steps to take." She looked towards the main door, and gasped, all thoughts of Andrew suddenly leaving her. Paul Sadler had just entered... with Kathleen behind him. Amy reached out vaguely for Steffi and patted her arm. "I gotta go! Sorry, talk to you later." Realizing how abrupt she was being, she gave Steffi a warm kiss, said, "I mean it, I do want to talk to you. And thank you again," then sprinted towards the door.

Almost breathless, and not from the run, Amy grinned as Megan's father heard her coming and turned towards her. He matched her smile with one of his own. "Amy, hi! Big day. I didn't realize there'd be so many people."

Kathleen stood with her arms folded and a slightly bored, sullen expression, of the type only teenagers can manage when they would rather be somewhere else. She grudgingly gave Amy a "Hi," and then gave the crowd an uninterested look.

Amy said eagerly, "Mr. Sadler, if you'll follow me, I'll show you the best place to watch from." She weaved her way through the still-growing crowd, to the rope circle around the hanging platform. She walked about a quarter of the way around and stopped. "It's kind of front-row-center. Megan will be facing this way to start with. As it goes on she'll twist around to face all directions, but this is sort of the... untwisted direction, and she'll always come back to this."

Mr. Sadler nodded his appreciation. Seeing Kathleen take up a position to her father's right, Amy drifted slightly left and gestured for Mr. Sadler to move slightly that way. "There, this is the perfect spot." It was now Kathleen who was centered. Kathleen had turned to look back towards the entrance, as though trying to judge how long it would take to get back to it.

The dean had taken note of Mr. Sadler's arrival and had approached from Amy's left. Amy backed away to let the dean hold his hand out towards Megan's father. "Eric Porter. It's very nice to meet you."

Mr. Sadler gave him a hearty handshake. "Paul Sadler. So you're the head guy here."

The dean smiled. "Indeed. And in some ways one might say your daughter is the head girl. I can't begin to tell you the significance of the contributions she has made to this establishment. It's enough to say..." he gestured around him, "...we've never done anything quite like this, and few students we have ever had would merit it."

The dean leaned a little and smiled at Kathleen. He held out his hand. "And you would be Kathleen. Eric Porter. Good to meet you."

Kathleen gave him a tiny bored smile, shook his hand, said vaguely "Hi," and went back to her inner brooding.

Amy couldn't resist looking at Kathleen, much as it worried her to do so. Now that she was here, it was one burden off Amy's mind, but that weight had been replaced by a new one: is she going to keep wearing that expression throughout?

The dean took his leave of Mr. Sadler, and moments later was in conversation with an unusually wealthy looking couple.

Movement through the entrance had now slowed considerably. Nearly everyone must be here, thought Amy. She turned back to Megan's father. "If you'll excuse me, sir, I need to go see how Megan is doing."

"Sure." He grinned at her.

Amy ducked back under the rope line and went back to the ready room.

Megan was facing away from the door, leaning over the bed onto her hands, her arms straight, one leg supporting her with bent knee, the other leg stretched straight out behind her. As Amy watched, she switched legs, now stretching the other. Amy cleared her throat. "Honey? It's about time to finish getting ready."

Megan stood and turned to Amy. Her gorgeous face seemed almost to vibrate with happiness. She had done all of the preparation she needed to do internally, and was open to the outside world once more. And still reading. "Kathleen is here." She frowned suddenly. "So what's wrong?"

Amy took a deep breath. "Well, she doesn't exactly want to be here."

Megan stepped towards Amy and wrapped her arms around her, rubbing the side of her head against Amy's. "She's here. That's all I want. Thank you so much for that. The rest will happen or it won't. I know what I'm hoping for, but I can't control it. I can just do what I do, and see what happens."

Amy held Megan tightly, loving the feel of Megan's arms around her one last time. She kissed Megan on the cheek, then on the lips as Megan turned her head towards her. They held the kiss several minutes, until Megan broke it off at last with an excited grin. "Gotta stop that or I'll never get hanged."

Amy smiled. "One more." She kissed Megan again, just a brief peck. "So I won't keep feeling like I want one more. I'll just tell myself I got one."

"Oil first? Or ropes?"

"It works better to do the ropes first, before my hands get all slippery."

Megan nodded, and turned away from Amy, her hands behind her back.

Picking up a short rope from the bed, Amy quickly tied Megan's hands behind her, wrists crossed, snugly but not enough to cut off circulation -- even though Megan would never need her fingers again, any unusual feelings of numbness would distract her during the hanging. Amy looped a longer rope around Megan's waist, tied it in front, pulled the free ends through between Megan's legs and tied them to the rope between Megan's wrists. "Lower? Higher?"

Megan tugged at the rope briefly, tightening it through her crotch. "It feels fine." She giggled. "I better not do too much of that. I'll get myself off before I even go out there."

She remained facing away from Amy as Amy poured a bottle of cooking oil into a bowl, and fished the now-soaked sponge out of the bowl. Meticulously, she began sponging the back side of Megan's body, starting from her shoulders so she could smooth out any dribbles of oil as she went down. As she reached Megan's heels, Megan turned so Amy could do her front. She sighed as Amy oiled her breasts and cleavage, and jumped slightly as the sponge reached her pussy lips, parted by the rope between them and already very swollen and sensitive with excitement.

Amy stood upright in front of her and took a deep breath. "You tell me. Are we ready? Are you ready?"

The shining of Megan's skin still couldn't match the glow of her eyes. "Absolutely, totally ready."

Amy laughed. "Well, we still have to wait. The dean would be pretty pissed if we marched out there before everybody was there."

Megan laughed too. "I just thought, why should I care about that, but then I remembered you still have to live with him."

Amy went to the bed for the white terrycloth robe, hung it on Megan's shoulders, and tied the cloth belt around her waist. With nothing left to do now, she stood beside Megan, her arm around Megan's waist, watching the door, as Megan rested her head on Amy's shoulder.

Amy opened her eyes at the sound of footsteps near the door, her heart suddenly pounding.

Jackie looked around the doorframe. "Dean says it's a go."

Megan closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a smile curling her lips. Amy, who always wondered at the start of a show, what does it feel like, what does it feel like, what is it like to take that last walk, took advantage of her ability to read Megan, more than she could anyone else, and came closer to knowing the feeling than she ever had before.

Megan looked at Amy, and gestured with her head. "You go ahead."

Amy nodded, her legs briefly trembling with excitement until her inner voice insisting be professional, be professional took control, walked through the door, down the short corridor, and out into the main party hall.