Chapter One
I hadn't meant to be successful. Then again, what type of person attempts suicide without an ounce of hope that it won't happen? In my opinion, nobody. Swallowing much more than an ounce of pills, however, prevented that hope from coming through. Tate had tried to save me. He told me so, himself. Not that I could remember what happened on the night that I died, this is supposedly the usual case, especially when suicide was involved. Despite my fascination with darkness, I had cried for hours on end when I'd realized my eternal fate. Spirit... ghost... Does it really matter what one calls it? I'm dead, simple as that.
So is Tate, of course. I'm actually more grateful than anything about that, which happens to eat away at my conscience, guilt seeping in each time I silently thank Tate for being dead. He tells me each day how he used to feel as if death was a huge barrier in our relationship, but that was when I was living. What saddens me most is I'll never have a heartbeat again. I'd never actually noticed the lack of Tate's blood-pumping organ, but maybe that's because I hadn't particularly paid attention to it. Maybe I had been imagining him to have a pulse all along, who will truly ever know?
Without the requirement of sleep, I've lately been paying more notice to Tate's every detail. The scent-less hair, the ever-tired eyes... He's still beautiful, you know that? Whether over-joyous or teary, Tate is the most handsome boy I've ever been acquainted with. The best part is he loves me! And I love him so much. If it isn't obvious by now, I may as well kill myself multiple times per day for eternity. But I would never do such a thing. I know how sensitive Tate is to my well-being. Gods, I love him!
I fantasize about him a lot. The odd times when he happens to be caught up in something, I find that it's him who's always occupying my mind, that moron. After saying goodbye to Tate, I'd been unable to stop tears from flowing out of my eyes. I knew I couldn't leave things the way they were... I needed to see him... Hold him...
"Tate..?" I called out questionably in a small voice. I knew he would hear me, no matter the distance between us.
"Vi..." a whisper.
"T-Tate... Where are you?"
Hands were suddenly on my hips, and I knew who they belonged to. Spinning around slowly, I faced the boy I had told to leave me alone,
"Vi... Oh gods, Violet..." he sobbed, his eyes downcast.
Without a second thought, I threw myself towards him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on as if for dear life, which ironically neither of us had.
"Shit, Tate. I was so wrong. I'm so sorry"
"Violet... You told me to go away" he cried into the crook of my neck.
"I was so wrong, Tate. I think I love you" I could feel myself being held in strong arms as he encircled my waist. The feeling was so familiar yet so odd.
It didn't take long before our lips were joined. With each breath we took, Tate breathed out an "I love you", and if my heart was still beating I'm sure it would have fluttered every time I heard those words.