Hey. I'm back! And so is Brooke.

Thanks for reviewing, Rya-plume d'un souffle (not quite), Bloodylilcorpse and Lord Candycane.

Brooke's friends are named after Goosebumps sisters. So: Tara is the terror (she even acts evil at the age of two) from "The Cuckoo Clock Of Doom", Brandy is the brat from "Egg Monsters From Mars", Ginny is the karate girl from "Bad Hare Day", and Emily is the annoying big sister from "The Werewolf Of Fever Swamp".

The months passed peacefully. Everything felt exactly the it had when I was alive. The thing was, I never really felt normal any more.

I really wanted to tell my friends the truth. But what would happen if I did? I already knew how everyone would react. Plus, I'd have to explain how I died, and I couldn't bluff my way through that. I'd have to tell them how Della was involved, and I didn't want them to start hating her all over again.

There was one more thing that was really picking at me, and that was my parents. Just after Christmas, I started to realize it. If I went through with the plan, this would be the second-to-last Christmas I ever had with them. And even worse, I was supposed to be turning thirteen near the end of February. I would never be thirteen. I'd spend the rest of my existence as a skinny little twelve-year-old. I didn't get how I could have done this. The full force of what dying meant was finally starting to catch up to me.

Ghosts are more intuitive than people. With my parents and friends, I could paste on a smile, insist everything was OK and they'd leave me alone. Della instantly knew how I felt, and guessed at why I was feeling that way.

"It takes a while to sink in." she said softly. "You know, even if I hadn't told you the truth, we'd still be here now, doing the same things. I mean, I'd still want you as my buddy, whether you'd chosen to die or not."

"And that only makes it worse." I murmured. "I let myself die, and now I have to exist with the consequences. I don't want to leave my mom and dad. I don't want to leave my friends! I want to be alive again."

That was it. I'd said it out loud. And then I broke down in tears.

I think Della knew that nothing she could say at this point would be enough. She just put her arms around me and let me cry on her shoulder. I half wanted to push her away, yet still, I couldn't find it in myself to be angry at her. After all, she was just as much a victim as I was, even if she had somehow become the one who victimized me.

That made it worse still. I'd consciously made the decision to join her in death. She hadn't known that leaving the campfire for the woods was essentially walking into a death sentence, while I had. In the nineteenth century, if anyone had done that, they would've killed themselves in despair, sure that they'd be going to hell. As it was, I was trapped in purgatory.

After that day, things sort of became real. I started withdrawing from the world, sort of as a form of preparation. If I only had a year and a half to be with these people, I had to unattach myself from them. But the whole time, I was conscious of doing it, feeling incredibly guilty that it was what I had to do.

The only time I really felt anything close to happiness was when it was just me and Della, on our own. After all, we were the only ones who really knew each other inside out. But the thing was, when we were around other people, like our friends, Della didn't have the same problem I did. She never seemed to feel like she had to keep her distance and not stay unattached.

Only one of my friends noticed, and it was Ginny. One day, when Brandy and Emily were away and we were sitting at the table, with Della and Tara giggling together over something, Ginny pulled me aside. "Are you all right, Brooke?" she asked. "You've been acting weird for awhile now."

"I'm fine." I insisted, probably doing a terrible job at lying. I wasn't ever a good actor. "What do you mean, I've been acting weird?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows at me. "Come on, Brooke. You barely talk to us any more. You sort of just sit there, looking all pale and drawn like you're pretending you're not here. And you never see us outside of school, either. Emily's noticed – she told me that she's worried about you. And I haven't said anything to her, but I can tell Della's noticed, too. I see her giving you these anxious looks when you're not looking at her." She paused. "We're your friends. You can tell us what's wrong."

Before I could stop myself, my words spilled out. "I can't! Not Emily. She'd be scared out of her mind. And you know what Brandy's like – she'd hate me. And-"

"Well, if you can't tell them, just tell the rest of us." Ginny insisted. "We won't hate you. If it's really that frightening or worrying, we won't tell the others. You know Tara won't hate you or get scared, and I swear I won't, either. I won't even ask questions if you don't want me to." She paused, and then said "Are you going to tell Della?"

It was do or die...well, so to speak. Do and die, I guess. I mean, okay, I wasn't going to kill any of them – I had my BFFD (Best Friend For Death) already, but I'd have to tell them I was dead. And no matter what Ginny said, I knew she'd ask questions. I mean, like I said, I wanted to tell my friends. But how would they take it?

Finally, I spoke. "It's about last summer. Della already knows. We'll have to go somewhere quiet where no one will see us, but I'll tell you both. Della can help me – she knows more about it than I do. But promise you won't hate her when you hear it."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at me, but said "Okay, I promise. As long as I can use my karate on her if I don't like what I hear."

I laughed – the first time I had laughed in a while. "Sure, okay." If Della made herself transparent, she wouldn't even feel a kick.

So after the four of us left the cafeteria, we headed for a secluded place under the trees. "So what's the big secret?" Tara asked. Her brown eyes were lit up. She knew something big was going on, but she didn't seem to know that it was something as serious as it was.

"Well..." I mumbled. "Thing is, I'm...I'm not like the rest of you. Over the summer, at camp, I...um..."

Della, seeing I didn't know what to say, took over. "It's not really on Brooke, the secret she has. It's me – I guess I should start. I'd gone to the same camp a few times. Thing is, another summer, I got bored of listening to a major water safety lecture, and sneaked off into the woods. But the problem is-"

"The woods surrounding the camp were infested with deadly poisonous snakes." I continued for her. "And..."

I didn't say any more. I didn't need to. Ginny and Tara were staring at both of us. I knew they didn't believe what we were getting at for the moment.

"I can give you proof." Della offered. She showed them the bite on her ankle. "It'll never heal."

Tara tilted her head to one side, staring at the blonde. "But if you died, then that would make you a ghost. You don't have any ghost qualities, though."

Della gave a sigh. "I can look as alive as I want. But watch this." She made herself transparent, and then hovered in the air for a second, before going back into normal mode. "And people can only see and hear me if I want them to. Throughout camp, I only let Brooke see me."

Tara seemed to accept this, but Ginny was looking wary, glancing from Della to me. I could tell she had a good idea of how this story ended. "Brooke, are you nuts?" she exclaimed without asking. "How did this even happen?"

"Ginny, you don't even know what I'm going to say." I protested. "And you promised not to hate me. Just because Della's a ghost, it doesn't make her evil. Some ghosts just need a friend."

Tara's eyes widened as the penny dropped. She looked at me carefully. "What did you do?" she asked.

"Same thing." I said, not wanting to incriminate Della. I'd have to stretch the truth, just a little bit. "I didn't know about the snakes – well, maybe I did, but I'd forgotten. Della did tell me about it, but it was too late. But I couldn't have coped with it as well as I have so far if it wasn't for her." I made myself invisible, but able to be heard for a moment. "I can do this, as well." I came back into solid view.

My friends were staring, open-mouthed. Ginny recovered first. "But that doesn't explain why you've become all quiet and moody, and not properly here."

"Yeah, that's true." Tara agreed. "I don't care if you're dead or a ghost or whatever. What's wrong with it?"

I didn't say anything. I didn't think they'd understand if I did. At least, having two of my friends know the truth made things feel a little better.

So now Tara and Ginny know! Also, just realized I made a screw-up. Emily's name should be Krissy or Mitzi, following the same format as the names of Brooke's other friends ("Why I'm Afraid Of Bees" or "Attack Of The Mutant"). Oh well, I like the name Emily better anyway – it's actually my middle name.