Memories From a Dead Girl

My name is Olivia Farris. I had a sister and a boyfriend and a world full of secrets, right under my nose. I was going to to graduate with near perfect grades, become a best-selling author, move far away from here, and never look back.

Until an accident changed everything.

I'd tripped a hundred times in my lifetime and received nothing more than a scratched up knee. But that day was different.

That was the day I fell and smashed my head on the side of my boyfriend's truck and knocked myself out.

That was the day my boyfriend, Austin, drowned my body in the swamp.

But I was still alive.

Barely.

He thought he was doing right by me, that he didn't have a choice. I would have died anyway, he said. Maybe he thought he was helping me.

Freeing me.

All he ended up doing was locking me into my body, unable to leave, until I found out the truth.

The truth is this: The shadow behind Austin that day was nothing more than the blackness of my vision constricting me, blinding me, taking me away.

And the only monster was a boy who, in a terrible panic, took a life.

I'm not the only one who knows the truth now. Chloe knows, and she's going to make sure that the police do as well.

My death was an accident.

How tragic is that?

Now that I've uncovered what's held me here for months, I'm no longer balancing two worlds. I can leave any time I wish. But I don't. I watch both of them, living their lives as best as they can without me.

Austin, spending an eternity in jail, because a judge finally convicted him of my murder, and even if it was just an accident, a life was ended.

Chloe, working furiously in college in a writing class.

We talk to each other sometimes, though she doesn't know I can hear her. She's just as talented as I am, so she's going to take over my dream for me.

She's going to write about my death, of losing me and dealing with the fact that her friend did this. But she's going to leave out the fact that Austin claimed he had abilities. She thinks it's tacky and doesn't believe him. To her, he is capable of murder all on his own.

Anyone is, if you look hard enough.

The end result is always the same: destruction, devastation.

But one thing is for certain, and it's something I only realized after I died.

There is love after death.

There is closure.

There are answers to why things happen the way that they do.

And there is peace.