Memories From a Dead Girl

We were back at my death spot, only this time Austin wasn't here. It was just me and Chloe. I watched her as her eyes finally fell on me. She said my name, but it was a strangled sob, and reached for me. But I knew she wouldn't feel anything.

I wasn't real.

This wasn't real.

But I didn't know what it was.

The water looked as murky and deep as always, and when I heard a car coming down the road, my eyes widened. I knew was what going to happen. I knew why we were here again, what I had to show my sister.

Finally, this would all end.

"Olivia," she said, her voice thick with disbelief. "Olivia, what's happening? What is this?" She ran her hands through her dark hair. "It's a dream," she muttered. "Just a really horrible dream."

The car was getting closer.

Soon she would see everything.

I would see everything.

When tires hit gravel, I turned, looking into the passenger seat to see myself sitting there. Austin was on the driver's side, then he wasn't. He was shouting at me, telling me to get out. When I did, his face softened.

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching for me. "I didn't mean to yell. Again. Jesus, I'm a dick."

The alive Olivia nodded. And when she—when I—went to hug Austin, the simplest thing occurred. I'd tripped, my body hitting the passenger side of the car, and my head slamming into the door. I closed my eyes, prodding my fingers along the dead hair of my scalp.

Feeling the pain in my skull.

"That's not right," I whispered angrily. "There was blood, and I remember the knife going into my stomach."

Beside me, Chloe gasped. "Oh, Olive."

"No," I told her. "This isn't how it happened. It's not.

But when Austin grabbed my already slack body, I knew. My memories—as well as his—had been compromised.

Something else had happened afterward.

"Please," I begged to Austin, to the sky, to anything that would give me answers. "Tell me what happened!"