Chapter 2

Three months later…

My eyes fluttered open, and I instinctively looked at the abandoned seat to my left. What a hell of a dream to have in Biology… It has been a couple of months since that fire, and my mind was still reminding me every minute of it.

It was your fault.

I sighed, and my teacher went on, "We're blood-typing tomorrow, so make sure you bring-"

Kill your teacher.

I raised my hand. "Can you repeat that?"

"I said to bring your-"

I SAID 'KILL YOUR TEACHER!'

"Oh okay. Thanks." I gave up, sliding down in my desk. After class, I headed straight to my car, slammed my door shut, jammed my headphones into my ears, and turned the volume all of the way up. I could care less if I lost my hearing. Maybe then I wouldn't have voices telling me to kill people all of the time.


"You're home early."

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"Something wrong?"

I threw my backpack at him. "Why? Your spidey senses tingling?"

He flicked me off.

"You wish you could."

He sat on the coffee table across from where I had sat down and folded his arms. "Voices getting to you?"

I sighed.

"Look, I know you don't want to talk about it, but it's not very fun watching you sulk all of the time."

"Then leave."

He stood up, his fists clenched. The TV flickered off. "You know I can't."

I felt really bad for using that against him. "I'm sorry…"

He shook his head, relaxing. "I know you didn't mean it."

He was so chill now… It's funny how death changes a person.

"They're taking shots at Curtz now. They want him dead."

"Good. That SOB can't teach worth-."

"It's not funny, Josh!" I folded my arms.

"Okay. Okay. Sorry."

"Oh, and you should come to Bio tomorrow. We're blood-typing." I winked at him.

He grimaced. "You know... I'm good."

"Suit yourself."


A few hours later, he was talking again. "Whatever happened to Katie, hun?"

Oh boy. I sighed. "She stopped talking to me."

"Just out of the blue?"

"Yeah. Funny how things happen, huh?"

He could sense the sarcasm in my voice and was quiet for a few moments. "There's something you're not telling me."

I sighed again. "Fine. I told her."

He raised an eyebrow. "Told her what?"

"About you."

"Oh."

"She didn't believe me. She thinks I'm crazy. I'm pretty sure, 'psycho bitch' came out somewhere in there too." I laughed.

He didn't seem pleased. "I don't think it's funny. A friend would do you some good."

"Hey! I have friends!"

"The homeless guy on McDowell that you give a cheeseburger to every Tuesday does not count." He replied flatly.

I stood up. "Are you spying on me?"

He shrugged. "I'm just worried about you."

"You're a ghost whose spirit is stuck on Earth, rooted to this house, and you're worried about me?"

"There's no more hope for me, Hanna. I'm dead. You, I still believe in."

"You're lucky I'm still talking to you. Mom and dad put me through hell after the fire." That was true. After having something traumatic happen to you, it's really not that wise to tell your parents you started hearing murderous voices and frequently talk to your dead boyfriend's ghost. Trust me.

"I know," He frowned, "and I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

He looked down. "I should have done a better job. I just left you there. How stupid am I? I caused that fire."

"You? I let you go head first into the flames."

He stared into my eyes. "If only I could kiss you right now."

I could see the tears welling in my eyes.

"I love you. You know that."

I managed to squeak out an "I love you too, Josh," and as the tears came, I saw him shift to sit next to me. He extended his arms to hold me, and for just a single moment, I could swear I felt it.