Chapter 1

In The Aftermath

I let it fall, my heart,

And as it fell you also claim it,

It was dark and I was alright,

Until you kissed my lips and you saved me,

My hands, they're strong,

But my knees were far too weak...

I set fire to the rain,

Watch it pour as I touch your face,

Let it burn while I cry,

Cause I heard it screaming your name.

Adele – Set Fire To The Rain

Eight months ago she'd come back from Italy, went back to college and finally gotten with Freddie, the one person she loved so much it fucking terrified her.

Five months ago she'd succumbed to psychotic depression, it had always been there, she'd felt it, pressing down on her, the voice in the back of her head chipping away at her, she'd buried it for so long, arrogantly thinking she could handle her own problems but being with Freddie had ruined her, her depression had fed on the agonising thought that it was all too good to be true, that something bad was going to happen, that eventually he'd realise just how damaged she was and not want anything to do with her.

He'd grow to hate her and she'd have her heart crushed -again. She didn't know what she'd do if that happened. There were times when Freddie would have to go out to get food or whatever where she would sit and drink herself away, without eating or sleeping, slowly convincing herself that he was actually a figment of her imagination, the shadows, the heavy smell of death, their gnashing teeth, they were real, Freddie wasn't.

She'd often huddled herself into a corner and just sobbed for hours and hours, sometimes he'd come home to find her like that, he'd called himself a prick, hugged her, told her it was going to be alright, that he was there for her, she'd wanted to believe him but the voices hadn't let her.

Four months ago she'd slit her wrists, Freddie had finally admitted he couldn't take care of her all by himself and her mother had sent her to a mental institution, they didn't call it that, although everyone knew that's what it was. Panda had come to see her everyday, so did Naomi, Emily and even Katie, Cook had been in prison and she hadn't let Freddie into see her, partly because he made her weak and she'd hadn't known if she'd be able to fight them with him there, plus she hadn't wanted him to see her like that.

Three months ago she'd started thinking that maybe her doctor John Foster wasn't who he said he was, he'd seemed genuine at first but then he'd asked she pretend that bad things in her life –Tony's accident, her parent's divorce, Freddie's treatment of her after the whole thing with Katie in the woods, hurting Cook- didn't happen. She'd done as he asked, albeit reluctantly, and found herself believing it. She'd blamed everyone else for her problems, particularly Freddie, she'd pushed him away, like John had wanted, and ended up forgetting who she was. She'd nearly gotten herself killed trying to remember.

Two months ago Freddie had gone missing, he hadn't turned up for his birthday and four days after that Cook had disappeared too. She'd trashed her room, broke a mirror, thrown her indie-rock CD collection against the wall, burnt her clothes, drank herself numb, OD'd on her anti-depressants and had landed herself in hospital for the umpteenth time.

A week ago Cook had been sentenced to four years in prison, -on top of that the eleven months he'd earned through bashing that poor sod's brains in at that party- he'd been convicted of the murder of Dr. John Foster, the man she soon learned had killed Freddie.

And now she really was fucking losing it. She'd stopped eating, sleeping, laughing, talking, it was as if her entire body was just shutting down, she couldn't feel anything anymore, life was pointless, wasn't it? You lived and for what? For God's sick amusement? And then finally the bastard would kill you but not before he took everything away from you first! Not before he screwed you over. Some merciful prick he is.

Effy stood in the middle of a field, it was August and the grass had yellowed from the constant sun Bristol had received as of late, she couldn't feel the heat on her skin though, the noises of the traffic and people talking went through her in a blur, for a moment she swore the world went grey, she even thought it might rain, she liked the rain, it reminded her of him. God, she missed him. His chocolate brown eyes, always so warm, even when he was angry, his boyish grin, the one that rarely left his face. His beautiful face.

She lifted her head to the sun, a tear rolled down her cheek, before she'd have wiped it away, convinced herself she was fine, because Effy Stonem knew that crying was for the weak, and the weaker you were the more easy it was for people to hurt you. Now she didn't give a shit. She needed him here. With her. Christ, she couldn't live without him!

"Give him back!" she yelled to the perfect blue sky, "Give him back, you fucking cunts! He's mine! You hear me? He's mine and I want him back now!" she sucked in a breath as more tears came, "I'm not moving." she whispered, "I'm here, Freddie, and I'm not moving."

"Who's Freddie?"

She spun around to find a girl, maybe a year or two younger than herself, with auburn-brown hair cut short, she had on a fair amount of dark eyeshadow and dressed like a bloke, most people would've taken one look at her and figured she was a circus freak. Effy knew better. From the pained look in the girl's eyes they were two sides of the same coin.

"He's my boyfriend." she choked out, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, she offered the girl one,

"Thanks. I'm Franky by the way." she said, as she plucked the 'death stick' out the pack,

"Effy."

"Take it he left you then? That's all they ever do, isn't it? People? They just up and leave."

Effy turned to glare at the girl but found herself unable to do so, you had to feel something to be able to do that, anger, hurt, loathing, fear, something, anything, all she felt was this big hole in her chest, ripping her apart, getting wider and blacker everyday, she felt empty, void and null,

"No."

"Then what happened?" Franky asked tentatively, seeming genuinely concerned, which was unlikely considering they'd only just met.

Even her bloody parents didn't care about her problems, why should some stranger who seemed just as screwed up as she was?

"He died." Effy managed, taking a long drag of her cigarette and biting back more tears, her eyes were red and raw, she'd honestly thought she couldn't cry anymore, turns out she was wrong, not surprising, she usually got things arse about face, "I went mad and he tried to help, my psychiatrist didn't like him, so he offed him. That's what happened." she said, venomously.

Franky was staring at her, eyes wide with horror, guilt, pity, every ugly emotion Effy hated seeing aimed her way, she'd grown somewhat accustomed to it the past month though,

"He was a stupid prick." she muttered, Effy opened her arms out wide and looked up to the sky again, "Aren't you, Freds? Stupid, fucking, bastard-ing, wanking, shitheaded prick! I told you! I told you! I'm poison and now you're dead and I'm..." she trailed off, "I don't know what the hell I am anymore."

There was a moment of silence, before Franky spoke up, her voice low and thoughtful,

"You really loved him, didn't you?"

Effy turned to face her and she knew her expression was answer enough,

"I've never felt that way about anyone, it must be nice though, to care about something that much."

"It isn't!" she snapped, walking over to the her, "I've never been so scared in my life. It's horrible. And now this..."

Franky's brow furrowed, her brown eyes flickered to the side, as if thinking of something, she slipped her hand into her black oversized blazer and pulled out a silver bottle, handing it to Effy, the older girl took it, sniffed it and recognised its contents as the lovely smell of Jack, a smell that made her think of Cook, who was rotting away in a cell because of her.

She took a long swig before handing it back and collapsed to her knees, letting out a shaky breath,

"I can't do it on my own. Not without him."

The other girl took the seat next to her and the pair sat there, staring out at the shithole of a town without saying so much as two words to one another. Or at least they had, until Franky broke the deafening quiet,

"Do you ever think that maybe there is somebody up there? Some tosser who just wants to see us suffer? Do you ever think this is really Hell?" the younger girl asked,

"All the time." Effy replied, finishing off her cigarette, "But I'll tell you something..."

"What?"

"I give up."

With that Effy stood and walked out into the road.

Franky's eyes widened as she saw the on-coming truck going far too fast to stop, she got to her feet, opened her mouth to shout at Effy to move but it was too late, the truck came crashing into her tiny frame, crushing her, blood splatters flew everywhere, there was screaming, other cars ground to a halt as they realised a girl had been killed.

She bit her lip, unsure what to do, Franky staggered back, clutching her stomach, afraid she might be sick, the girl she had just met, with whom she'd had probably the deepest conversation of her life, the girl who she'd felt really understood her, now lay in the middle of the concrete, a mangled, bloodied mess. Then across the street she noticed something.

Squinting she saw the a young lad with dark skin and hair as messy as his clothes were baggy, his arms wound around a sobbing, laughing girl with long, dark curls pulled back into a pony, the t-shirt she wore as a dress three sizes too big. Franky's heart sped up as she recognised the girl.

The last thing she needed was to find out she could see ghosts. But at least Effy and Freddie were together.

Even if it meant them both being dead.