Author's note: I started this story 12 years ago when I was 14. I recently revisited it and had a new idea for the ending. I decided to write the ending but going through the original chapters I thought maybe they also could use a little (or maybe a lot) of editing now that I am A Real Adult. As I started to edit it, I realized I didn't want to lose the version I wrote as a teenager either, even if it relied pretty heavily on metaphors lifted straight out of Harry Potter. I decided to publish this new updated version completely separately from the old. I know there are rules here about posting the same story twice, but I believe the two versions are different enough that this shouldn't be a problem, In the original, I had planned for Satine to come back to life. She doesn't in this, lets just leave it at that.

I don't know who he is but I see him everywhere. My mind decays like the soil around me. He had green eyes and inky hands. His name always seems to be on the tip of my tongue. I can form the shape of words but no sound comes out. I remember him kissing me.

Death is a lonely eternity. The only thing that me kept from fading away completely like everyone else was the memory of that kiss.

He came to my grave and in a broken whisper he said my name. "Satine" His cracked voice was not like I remembered it. But it was his. I was filled with memories.

I was sitting on a bed with satin sheets in a giant gold elephant. I was wearing my black dress, it's collar leaving itchy lines on my neck. My hair was red. He lay beside me writing. I watched him out of the corner of my eyes, not wanting to be caught staring and but he glanced up and smiled at me. He reached for me, kissing neck and I shivered, clutching the sheets. "I love you, Satine" he breathed into my ear. I felt like I was flying

Then the flowers seem impossibly large. Where was I? It was familiar. I saw a white house in the distance, I had looked out of each it's windows. My father's yard! I was in my Sunday dress, white with too many ribbons, but had pulled my bonnet off and the hot sun beat down on my exposed face. I was barefoot. My toes burned from the sudden cold as I submerged them in the stream, but I had a mission. I stared at the green bullfrog and he stared back, unimpressed. I reached out, my fingers inches away but the river bed was slippery with algae and I lost my footing. The frog leapt in the air just as I fell. Moments later, brown and muddy, I emerged. Looking up I saw my father stood at the gate, his eyes blazing. "Satine!"

Everything spun and I was in a room full of tinsel and holly and there was a candle lit tree and string of stocking by the fire. I could smell cinnamon. I was pregnant; it was only a couple weeks before she was born. My sister was sitting next to me on her sofa in a pink dressing gown. She laughed and placed her hand beside mine, feeling Juliet's kicks. Alice's eye crinkled as she laughed.

"Here!" she said, handling me a present wrapped in silver paper. "Merry Christmas Satine."

Then I was naked. A strange man was grabbing me. I did nothing. I smiled and kissed him. His expensive cologne didn't hide his smell. I let myself leave my body and pretended the traffic outside was the ocean. But the man insisted on talking to me. "Give to me, yeah you like that, tell me you like that, Satine"

But his lips were replaced with anothers. Fearful I pushed him away.

"What's the matter? Did I hurt you?" I felt tears coming up, blinking to stop them. I remember how scared I'd been the first time I faced him without make up. It was worse than being naked. This was worse than that. I shook my head. "I don't know Christian"

Then I was there, beside my own grave. And he, Christian, was there, with white flowers. I tried to touch him but my hand went right through him. I choked and called his name but he only shivered with the sudden gust of cold wind. He pulled his coat tighter around him and walked out of the cemetery. I looked at my headstone.

Satine Mary Desmereges

1874-1899

That was all that remained of me here on earth, a name and some numbers. This was not me. I left my body and followed Christian out of the cemetery.