Traveling through the forest is smooth and easy. I’m shocked when I realize I’m not really walking on the ground at all. My feet skim the surface, gliding over roots and rocks like skates over ice. I don’t feel the ground, I’m not even sure if I’m touching it. It’s just too weird, and I jerk my gaze back upwards, away from my feet.

            Yellow light shines through the windows of my house. The car is parked in the driveway. The engine is still ticking when I pass it. They must have just walked in the door.

The front door proves to be a problem. When I reach for the doorknob, not even thinking about it, my hand passes through like smoke. It’s eerie, and it makes me want to scream. But I’ve seen enough ghost movies to know what I have to do. I hold my breath and shut my eyes, like a diver about to jump into the freezing water . I take the plunge and walk forward as fast as possible. When I open them I’m in the front hallway staring at my parents shoes. Habitually messy, both pairs are beside the shoe rack. Mom’s purple high heels and Dad’s shiny black loafers. I stare at them, knowing I have to go in and see them, heart aching. Part of me wonders if I should just go back. Turn around and go back to the river, tell Sam to take me to the other side, to whatever the afterlife has in store for me. I can’t do this, I’m too weak.

The sound of mom’s laughter from the kitchen makes me step forward, longing forces me down the hallway. Mom is sitting on the bar stool in the kitchen, giggling at something Dad is saying. Some outrageous story probably, or something that happened to them at the conference. Dad is at the stove, cooking scrambled eggs, one of the only dishes that either of them knows how to make. I stand in the doorway fighting tears, completely miserable.

            Mom sighs. “I know Bree is at that party next door. I saw the lights when we drove by, and there are cars in front of the house.”

            “Can’t be a very big party,” Dad says. “There was no loud music and only a few cars.”

            “It’s late, it’s probably over now. She’s probably staying the night with that boy,” Mom says. “I wish she would just leave us a note.”

            “She didn’t know we’d be getting back tonight.”

            Mom rolls her eyes. “We didn’t know we’d be getting back tonight.”

            “I can’t believe they kicked everyone out of the hotel,” Dad grumbles, spooning eggs onto his plate.

            “If there really was a gas leak it’s a serious thing.” Mom shrugs. “It just sucks, that’s all.”

            I walk closer, studying their faces. Mom looks tired. Her usual makeup is absent, and her hair is down and curly. Something I rarely see. I notice she has laugh lines, developed over the years because she thinks everything is a joke. Her smile is so beautiful. She’s still so young. Sometimes it’s hard to believe she’s my mom, even though I know she had me at eighteen. I know her and dad weren’t prepared for me. They weren’t planning on kids, but they did their best. And all I ever did was complain.

            “Mom,” I whisper, wishing desperately that she could hear me. “I’m sorry I was such a jerk to you.” I wince, remembering that I had complained the entire day before they left. Telling them they were bad parents because they were never home. Was that really going to be the last thing I’d ever said to them? I bite down on my lip, but of course, it doesn’t hurt. I wish it did. I deserve it.

            I watch them talk for another couple of minutes, chest tight with anguish. Tears are flowing down both cheeks now. I don’t get to say goodbye. It’s not fair.

            “I’ll call Nakia tomorrow I guess.” Mom takes her plate of eggs from dad, “thanks.”

            Nakia’s name jerks me out of my sadness, and anger rushes in to fill the empty ache in my chest, making my entire body ridged. What will happen when she calls Nakia? Will my so called friend just lie to them? How long will it take for my parents to find out I’m dead?

            They look so happy and oblivious right now. I wish they didn’t have to find out. Why couldn’t I just freeze them in this moment, right now? I try not to imagine how they’ll react when they get the news. How mom will cry, her beautiful face crumpling in pain. How angry dad will be, how hurt he’ll be. And of course they’ll both be consumed with guilt, just like I was when Sam drowned. They’ll blame themselves for not phoning me tonight. For being away at the conference when it happened. For letting me date Caleb in the first place. All the millions of guilty thoughts that stung me constantly when I was younger will do the same to them. Only worse. Much, much worse.

            It hits me now, the knowledge that if I go with Sam, I’ll never know what happens. I won’t know how the story ends. My body is in the river, there’s no evidence of a crime. How will they ever know what Caleb did to me? My parents may spend the rest of their lives wondering what happened to me. Wondering if I’m dead. Not knowing.

It can’t end like this. It can’t end with my parents wondering where I am, and Caleb getting away with everything. They would never get closure, and that wasn’t fair to them.  I can’t do this. I can’t just cross over and live happily ever after while they’re consumed with pain and doubt. While my murderous ex-boyfriend lives happily ever after.  I won’t let Caleb cover up my murder.  I won’t let them live happily ever after. I won’t.

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