I drove south for a few days, stopping occasionally at dingy motels for the night and then resorting to sleeping in my car when my money was running low. I loved the freedom this little road trip had given me; it was a welcome break from my thoughts and for the first time in what felt like forever I had a little bit of hope that there was something better waiting for me out there. My mother had always been religious – or, at least she pretended to be – and so I had grown up believing that when I died, I had to end up somewhere better than the filthy goddamn horror show that was planet Earth. My mother would have said: "Suicide is a sin!" in her out-of-place, southern drawl. I suppose that definitely explained the shithole I had been spat into as a result of killing myself.

I was driving down a long, never-ending road purely made of dirt and dust. I had to clean my windscreen every now and then otherwise my vision was completely obscured by the residue it left on the window. The sun was out again today, so I had rolled both my window and the passenger's window right down, the breeze flowing in and ruffling my hair. The sight was boring – the land was so dry and cracked that not even a blade of grass could sprout here; the lack of greenery annoyed me slightly. My eyes flickered down to the fuel meter on the dashboard and felt that sense of amusement you get when something coincidental happens, spotting a gas station about thirty metres ahead. I pulled in slowly, glad to give my feet a rest from the pedals and my stomach growled, reminding me I had other bodies to fuel too.

I slid around the side of the car and hooked the gas pump into the slot. I leant against the pillar behind me, tipping my head back and inhaling deeply through my nose. When I looked down to check how much fuel I'd put into the car, I spotted a young girl walking down the side of the dirt road, looking in both directions very frequently. I laughed internally, wondering if she seriously thought she'd bump into anyone this far in the middle of nowhere.

I grabbed the fuel pump to take it out when I heard her approach me; tiny, click-clacking footsteps growing louder as she delicately ran up to my car. It was only when she slammed her hands on the hood of my car, making me jump, that I looked up at her and my heart had a crazy spasm.

The dark blonde hair, the to-the-knees floral dress with the mustard cardigan tied sloppily around her waist and the fierce eyes as strong as black coffee. I saw the recognition in her eyes and her posture changed almost imperceptibly, but I noticed it. I noticed every little thing about her.

"Tate," she said, like one would speak to a long-lost friend. I tried not to be angry with her, but I still felt a phantom sense of betrayal in my blood. I had no rational reason for it – she was never obliged to stay in contact with me. I supposed I had never done a rational thing in all my life though, so I accepted my behaviour as part of my nature. I just looked at her, fuel pump in hand and my eyebrows were raised. All I really wanted to do was touch her – her hair, her hand, her face... I craved the impossible warmth of her touch.

She looked down at her shoes like a shy child. I hung the fuel pump back on its hook and closed the petrol cap on the side of the car. She looked up at me through her lashes. "Where have you been?" I finally spoke, my tone flat and harsher than I intended. Sometimes it was like I wasn't in control of my own mind or body. I frightened myself.
"Travelling," she shrugged.
I felt my nostrils flare. I was incredulous. How could she just go? How could she just leave without telling me? "And you didn't think to let me know?" I demanded. She rebuked at my tone and she became defensive, putting her back up, showing the Violet that I knew and so wrongly adored.
"What are you, my keeper?" She snorted. In a flash of blind rage, I shot around the car and was in front of her face before she could blink. She looked up at me and I felt the essence of fear seep from her pores. She could say she wasn't scared until she was blue in the face, but I knew what fear felt like. I could practically smell it coming from other people. I had spent the entirety of my high school education catching whiffs of fear from my peers and I revelled in it. I fought back the smirk threatening to wreak havoc on my face.

"What were you doing in the middle of the road?" I changed the subject. She looked confused and it made me want her even more. It was like catching prey – confuse them, then go in for the kill. It was strange how I was still fucked up even in death.
Her eyebrows knitted together. "Trying to catch a ride, dumbass."
I laughed loudly. "There's no one around for miles. Trust me, I know," I jutted my chin towards my car. She looked thoughtful as I turned my head in the direction of the sun, feeling a sneeze tickle the insides of my nostrils. I closed my eyes as I sneezed hard and when I opened them, Violet had disappeared from before me and was lounging in the passenger seat of my car, legs lolling out of the open window and her little red Converse nudging me playfully.

I rolled my eyes and jogged to the little building where I supposed I would pay for my fuel. Porta-loos were lined to the left of the building and the place looked deserted. I poked my head around the door, which had dust settled along its frame as though it hadn't been moved for a while and confirmed my suspicions. I was glad it was empty, as now I had a full tank of free gas. I sauntered lightly back to the car and pulled two cans out of the trunk, filling them with fuel too and stashing them back in my car. This was probably dangerous, but we were already dead, so I found it hard to care.

I slid into the driver's seat and rested my palms gently on my thighs, looking straight ahead. I could feel her staring at me and I knew that if I looked at her, any resolve I had would fizzle away with the smirk I knew was undoubtedly plastered on her face. "So, did you hear the rumour?" she asked excitedly, rummaging around in the little compartment beneath the dashboard, fingering between empty wrappers and old receipts and other junk the previous owner had left behind.
"What rumour?" I replied, my tone suggested I was less interested than I actually was. I was interested in everything she had to say.
She made a squeal of delight and sat back up quickly, unwrapping a piece of gum and tossing it into her mouth. I turned my nose up at her, thinking about how old that gum must be. She shrugged and chewed sloppily on purpose, grinning at me. I fought back a smile in return. "You haven't heard? There's a way out," she leant forward, eyes wild with excitement. "I don't know how, but that's what I'm trying to find out."
"You're an idiot," I rolled my eyes and buckled my seatbelt, eying hers. "Put your seatbelt on." She turned grumpily and fastened her belt, folding her arms across her chest like a child.
"You ever believed in reincarnation?" She muttered, blowing a bubble and popping it with her tongue. I tried not to be distracted by how her lips would taste and focused on starting the ignition and pulling out of the gas station. I grunted in a non-committal response. "I used to," she continued, staring dreamily out of the window as we drove. I admired her hair fanning around her head in the breeze. "This theory explains it. Don't you see?" She turned to look at me. "We can escape this place and be reborn, back on the other side. It's rare, but it happens. Wouldn't you like the chance to live again? Don't you regret ending it all?" I looked back at the road, gripping the steering wheel tighter. I didn't want to have to admit everything to her. I didn't want to tell her my story because I so desperately wanted, no, needed for her to like me. I needed her to like me the way I liked her and I knew that if she knew what had happened to me and what I did, then she'd run away from me forever this time.
"Can we talk about this another time?" My stomach grumbled extremely conveniently, providing my exit from this subject of conversation. "Are you hungry?" She looked at me with tightness in her eyes and I knew that my panic had not escaped her. I both cursed her for her observance and swelled with happiness that she seemed as in-tune with me as I was with her. She nodded and looked out of her window again. I didn't strike up any more conversation until we finally reached a diner an hour or so later.

I parked the car and tried to get to her side of the car before she opened the door – I wanted to do the cliché gentleman move and open it for her – but she'd already jumped out of the car before I could make it. I tried not to look disappointed. She also entered the diner first and slid in the booth in the farthest corner. She was annoyed at something, probably me, but I chose to ignore it. I knew I would become angry with myself if she told me I had done something wrong.

I sat opposite her and studied her face. She looked up at me, right in the eyes, in a way that made my palms sweat and my stomach twist. "Do you trust me?" She asked.
"Undoubtedly," I replied a little too quickly and honestly. I trusted her with the whole of my dead, un-beating heart but I wasn't inclined to tell her that.
"Then do you promise to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?" She smiled slightly and rested her elbow on the table between us, sticking her pinky finger out towards me. "Pinky swear?"
I felt nervous at the impending question but laughed amusedly at her playful behaviour. I curled my pinky finger around hers. "Pinky swear," I confirmed. She didn't release my finger as she asked the question I'd been dreading.
"Why'd you kill yourself?"
I didn't beat around the bush this time. "I massacred half of my high school," I said, emotionless. There, I had dropped the bombshell. I would wait and let the chips fall where they may.

Updates might be a little slow til the end of January (not too slow, hopefully) because it's unfortunately exam time and I'm currently cramming my brain with psychology and law.