Chapter One

Today was going to be hard. It was my sister's birthday. But today was not going to be all balloons and birthday cake. Believe me. I didn't want to go to school. I didn't even want to get out of bed. I wanted to pull the covers over my head, shut my eyes and will time to go backwards. To that day exactly three months ago. To undo everything. So that Junie could be here for her ninth birthday. It was all utter crap of course, because I had played this game every day. But the time on my watch just kept ticking forwards. It was no use as usual. The tears rolled down my cheeks before I could stop them.

"I'm so sorry Junie. It's my fault you're not here. Please forgive me." I lost control and sobbed helplessly into my pillow. I pictured her innocent gappy tooth smile. Last year for her eighth birthday, caramel skin shining elegantly in her ballet outfit. Long dark hair tied neatly into plaits. Brown eyes shining brightly as her face lit up with a smile. Her pink birthday cake lit up with eight candles illuminating her features. I stared at that picture every day, willing time to tick backwards. This and the fact that I could spend hours hunched over an old album, my face tearstained praying and wishing like fury, that convinced my parents to make me see a psychologist.

My mother opened the door.

"Chris, it's time to get up."

I didn't want her to see me crying so I hid my face in my pillow.

"O-okay mom"

She must have heard the crack in my voice, because she came to investigate running her hands through my long red hair.

"Chris, have you been crying? Look at me darling."

It was no use. I had to face her. She immediately saw my bloodshot eyes and tearstained face. She gave me a huge hug. Mom was a large woman and was wearing her soft, fluffy pink gown so it was like being hugged by a marshmallow.

"Oh Chris. I'm sorry darling. You're missing Junie aren't you?"

"Mom, I don't know why you are saying sorry. It was my fault."

"Christina Evangeline Burnett, there was nothing you could have done to save her."

"I shouldn't have let her swing so high. I should have been able to catch her. I should have made her play on the slide instead. We should never have gone to the park that day."

"Don't be ridiculous! It was a tragic accident. It was not your fault. It was nobody's fault."

"It wouldn't have happened if we hadn't gone to that damn park"

"Oh Chris." My mother hugged me tighter. "That sort of thinking never helps anyone." Her voice was very thick as if she had started to cry herself.

My nose had started to run and was all snotty and disgusting but I was beyond caring. I wiped my nose on my pyjama sleeve.

"Don't do that Chris. Go and grab a tissue."

I obediently ran to the bathroom. I blew my nose. I washed my face and then ran back to my bedroom.

"Chris, how has it been going with Kim, hmm?" mom asked seriously.

I merely gave a shrug of my shoulders. I didn't quite know how to word my sessions with Kim my psychologist. I had expected her to be an awful old hag asking nosy questions about my innermost thoughts and feelings. Kim was young and upbeat and had one of those wide, but genuine smiles that would have made toothpaste commercial proud. She never pried. She just started talking about something and then gently prompted to tell her how I was feeling. She never got frustrated or impatient. The first session I had been pretty nervous and was silent for a full fifteen minutes. The odd thing was that I certainly felt a bit lighter after I had a session with Kim. Unfortunately this feeling of euphoria would only last for about twenty minutes tops. And then I would start to feel horrible again. After I had opened up to her Kim had given me a silver and blue spiralled notebook covered in little stars and planets and moons with a red glittery "Diary" in the centre.

"I want you write your thoughts and feelings into this special book" she had said.

"Will you read it?" I had asked suspiciously.

"No. Jotting down your thoughts and feelings no matter what they are is a great way to track your progress in the grief process"

And so that is why I am writing this.

"She is helping me. Honest. I just can't help feeling a bit… down sometimes."

Mom didn't look convinced. But she didn't pursue it. "Okay. You'd best get ready for school."

"Actually I'm not feeling so good mom. Maybe I should stay at home today."

Mom clung to me tightly and then she started to sob. "Listen Chris. I know it's hard. We all miss Junie terribly. But, please Chris you can't afford to miss another day of school. Try. Go to school. That's all I ask of you. Please, we love you and just want what's best for you, darling"

It was pointless pushing her further. So I got dressed in my boring private school uniform. The typical kind: charcoal grey skirt, white blouse, grey blazer and stupid beige hats with red ribbons for the girls with awful button up clunker shoes. The boy uniform was not much better. I did my hair in my usual ponytail with a green elastic to match my eyes. I had a quick slice of toast with cheese, brushed my teeth and then made sure I was going to have at least ten minutes of non-interruption, before repacking my school bag. I tipped out half of my school books to make it lighter and kicked them under my bed. I made sure I had my blue and silver notebook, a book to read, my colour pencils, my pocket money and Marta the cuddly white rabbit dressed up as a ballet dancer that I had given Junie last year for her eighth birthday. Then I snuck downstairs whilst mom was showering and dad was still sleeping (He sometimes did work from home) to snatch a few snacks to keep me going throughout the day. I was careful to only take a handful of each as to not rouse my parent's suspicions. A handful of raisins, a handful of biscuits a small piece of cream cheese two slices of ham, etc. Before stuffing everything into a paper bag and cramming it into my school bag. As you have probably gathered I had no intention of going to school today. I felt a little bit bad, because mom had just burst into tears and pleaded with me to go to school. But I couldn't turn back. I had something very important to do. And this would be the first and (hopefully) last time that I bunked school.

"Bye mom, bye dad" I yelled as I ran straight for the bus stop. The school bus came nowhere near our neighbourhood, so I caught the public bus.

"Hi Chris" a large, podgy dark haired boy by the name of Quincy Blake greeted me. He was wearing his grey blazer and tie and loose charcoal pants which flapped like skin. His younger sister Sadie was with him. I mumbled a quick "hi" and then pretended to be staring out the window. I never really hung out with Quincy. Just because we lived in the same neighbourhood, didn't mean we had to be friends. That's what I told mom and dad when I complained about him and his stupid mates. For some reason Quincy always tried to catch my eye, and greet me on the bus and his stupid mates Charlie and Greg always sniggered whenever I went past them.

"Isn't it obvious Chris, he likes you" Olivia had rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Well, I most certainly don't like him"

Well now I wouldn't have to put up with any of them today. Olivia and Bianca were seriously getting on my nerves lately. It was so lonely without Alice. I still spoke to her on WhatsApp, but it wasn't the same. Whenever we paired up for an activity in class Olivia and Bianca paired off with each other. So I always ended up with whoever was left. I was so relieved that I was far away from school. Today I was going to what I consider the grave yard of Junie Burnett. I had sworn I would never go there ever again because now it gave me nightmares. But today was different. Today I was going to relive the past, be in the present and tie up loose ends, so that I could move on and look forward to the future all at once.

I ran for it the moment the bus stopped before Quincy could notice that I had not got off at the right stop. My heart beat furiously inside my chest and I started panting like a little dog, but I didn't dare look back or stop running until I had reached my destination. Oakleaf Park. I paused just outside the entrance. I took a breath and steeled myself to enter. It was eerily quiet. An ominous silence. And it felt more like I was visiting a graveyard than a children's park. The weather was pretty overcast today which didn't improve the atmosphere. I wasn't as alone as I thought. There was a little girl of about nine on the swings. Her skin was caramel and her long dark hair tied into two long plaits. I was rooted to the spot as if superglue held me in place. Oh lord, It had to be her ghost. I wasn't sure what to do. How did you respond if you met the ghost of a loved one. Should I call out? Run towards her? Then the dreadful memory of her dying on those very swings and me being unable to save her flashed through my mind.

"Junie! Junie! Get off those swings!