Memories From a Dead Girl

Forty-Eight

The water was where I died.

And it seemed to hold my memories of that day, memories I wanted them to see, but I doubt they ever would. Unless somehow Austin could conjure up the past and see what I saw. Because Chloe needed to know.

I glanced behind me; Chloe was sitting with her back against a tree, her fingers pressing into the dirt, staring straight ahead, at the murky depths that once held my body. Austin was beside her, his hands running along his shoulders in an attempt to calm himself.

Maybe coming here wasn't such a good idea.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Austin muttered. "You were right, you weren't ready for this."

Chloe blinked at him, and stood. Then she walked to the edge and stuck her foot in the water; it rippled, just like it had when I touched it, and stopped. She looked back at Austin, a haunting sort of gaze slipping into her eyes.

"Our mother used to tell us that when people die, their memories of what happened linger in the spot where they stopped breathing," she said softly. She crouched down and plunged her hand into the water. "I wonder if it's true here."