"Come on, Ems, lighten up," Damian sat down next to the girl and nudged her shoulder with his.

"Leave me alone. I don't feel like it right now," Emma sighed, bending her knees until she could hug them against her chest.

Sitting on the steps of the school they had attended before being murdered, the young leader couldn't understand why the rest of her friends didn't have the same drive she did; this overwhelming need to torture Lloyd McGraff for ruining their lives. How could they forget about what he had done to them so easily? And all because that stupid little bitch blamed them for an accident.

True, her anger should have been directed at that devious mastermind, but unfortunately the price she paid for cursing them had been her soul. It wasn't like a necromacer was just going to grant a wish without something in return. The pure evil which must have dwelt in her being to feel their eternal torment was worth fading from existence altogether was unfathomable.

Having your soul eaten wasn't the same as dying to return somewhere in a new life either. It was as close to true death as any person, spirit, or being could endure. For all her fury, Emma could not comprehend the amount of hatred Fiona held for her and her friends. It was just an accident. They didn't mean to hurt her. Why should they have to pay so dearly for an honest mistake?

"Hey Ems," the tall boy jumped out from behind a tree and threw his arm over the girl's shoulder.

"Damian," she blushed, "What are you doing here? If anyone tells my mom they saw us together-"

"You worry too much!" the older boy leaned over to kiss her cheek, "I haven't been able to spend any time with you because of those goddamn exams this week."

"I know," the equally tired teen sighed, "But hey, last day is tomorrow. I should be able to find plenty of excuses over the summer where we can hang out."

Damian graduated this year, making him about four years older than his girlfriend. When she had told her mother that he asked her out, the woman complained of their age difference despite how mature her daughter appeared. The conversation may have stopped with telling the girl she couldn't go, but Emma pressed the matter, revealing that they already hung out at school and complimenting his personality.

However, this only led to her mother forbidding her from spending any time with the soon-to-be adult, even just as friends between classes. Heart already rebellious, she ignored these orders and instead worked harder to hide their relationship.

If Damian weren't so close to being legal, they likely would have put up more of a fight to be in the open. As it was, the teens feared Emma's mother might try claiming statutory rape or some shit until she was of consenting age herself. Not that the woman knew her daughter was sexually active; they just didn't want to chance it.

Damian wasn't popular nor was he top of his class, but definitely a sweetheart. The two had hit it off instantly, the boy taking the role of protective puppy while she remained the dominant go-getter she always was. Emma was used to having a few naysayers, the kind that wanted to technically be friends yet still seemed to constantly nag, so it didn't bother her that not everyone at school was pleased with her boyfriend either. However, in an unprecedented turn of events, she actually began distancing herself from anyone who didn't really support her, opting for Damian's company instead.

"I heard the freshmen are throwing a party tomorrow night," he suggested, "Maybe if you could get your mom to let you go, we can meet up there."

"That sounds great!" the goth beamed, "Since it's supposed to be freshmen only, I could tell her seniors like you aren't even allowed. I know my friend Amy would vouch for me."

It was a great plan, except that the two girls never saw each other again. The next morning at school, there was an announcement about Amy's death and how her parents wanted the students to know in case there were any of her numerous friends who wished to attend the funeral.

At first, Emma thought it was a prank. Near the end of the year, seniors were given far too much leeway which led to a lot of jokes and subsequently a lot of complaints from the under-classes.

Right after the last test was finished and students were boarding the bus, Emma's stomach formed into a pit. Although nothing else had been said, her friend had never showed and other kids were whispering. What if it was true?

"Mom?" the girl called as she crashed through the screen door. Strolling into the kitchen, she slid her bookbag to the floor as her eyes caught on a newspaper laying on the dining table.

Her vision nearly tunneled with a sense of deja vu. It had been almost a year past that she crossed an identical sight. She even remembered the article displayed before her then: Handicapped Teen Dies From Concussion On School Steps.

"Oh honey, no," in her distraction, Emma hadn't heard the woman enter through the back door, exchanging the gardening tools in her hand for the paper her daughter held, "Give me that. Are you okay?"

Student Dies During Sleep to Unexplained Trauma, the title she had barely managed to read before it was snatched away repeated in her head.

"But," the girl swallowed, moisture welling in her eyes, "Amy wasn't even sick. How-"

"Her dad called this morning," mother took hold of the confused teen's shoulders, "Doctors say she might have inadvertently wounded herself and collapsed on the bed before she could call for help. They found her with severe damage to her eyes. But police haven't ruled out that she was attacked," the woman embraced the girl tightly, "I'm so sorry, hun."

It took the next several hours for Emma's mind to comprehend this loss. Who the hell would kill Amy? She was such a nice person. Even taking a nap wasn't enough to alleviate the pain because Emma somehow awoke feeling just as alone. The cheerleader had been her closest friend, one of the few she had left at all. She was so shaken, the party had almost slipped her mind completely.

"Absolutely not!" her mother squeaked when it was brought up, "No chaperones? with a possible killer on the loose? No. You will stay here with me where it's safe."

"Ugh, Mom! That is so unfair!" Emma threw her hands in the air, "I need to do something so I don't obsess over this! Everyone is going to be there. I really doubt some dude is going to traipse into the middle of a crowded house and just start killing people."

"I said no, Emma," the woman repeated, crossing her arms decidedly.

After marching upstairs and locking herself in her room, the young rebel blasted her stereo. Another hour went by, during which she contemplated her escape.

Soon however, there came small thudding sounds outside the window. Turning the music down just a bit, she cautiously approached the glass and slid it open. Below on the ground, stood Damian.

"Hey, Ems, are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes, "My mom won't let me go out tonight."

"That sucks," his shoulders fell, "Well, at least I got to say good night."

"Wait!" her voice halted the boy as he started to leave, "Don't leave yet."

Going back inside, she carefully unlocked her door and peered out into the hallway. Nobody was around, so she inched out to the top of the stairs and looked over the banister into the living room. Her mom had fallen asleep on the sofa. Creeping to the bedroom again, she closed and locked it, then returned to the window.

"What are you doing? Be careful!" Damian called in a hushed voice when he saw a short black skirt begin shimmying down the vines on the side of the house.

The lovers ran down the block to where Damian had parked his truck and then drove out to the park. Admittedly, they were both a little worried at first being alone, hidden under the trees at night with what had happened to Amy unresolved.

Yet all that was needed was a simple talk: discussing how the vehicle was locked and presenting the baseball bat kept in between the seats for protection. Afterward, they were free to distract themselves in the best way hormone struck teens knew how.

"You look tired," Damian caressed the hair whose head laid against his chest as they sat watching the starlight through the windshield, "Want me to take you home?"

"No," Emma mumbled, already tiring both the day and recent coitus, "I don't want be away from you yet. I'll just rest my eyes. Is your arm alright?"

"Yeah, you're good," he continued to stoke her black locks.

In the quiet, removed atmosphere in the comfort of her beloved's arms, the girl soon fell asleep. It wasn't her intention, but the excitement of their last week in school before summer added to the stress of her best friend's sudden death, it was bound to happen. Even as fatigued as she was though, the slumber was far from refreshing.

"Damian?" her voice called with concern, not understanding she was within a dream.

Wandering the empty halls of the high school, a sense of impending doom slowly overcame her. Her pace quickened, her heart thumping rapidly as she began running through the building, crying desperately for her friend or lover. Anyone.

Gradually, her ears picked up the sound of laughter. Quieting herself as much as possible, the frantic girl made a beeline toward its source, finding a scene that she had tried so hard to erase from her memory.

"Stop!" another girl screamed as she fell helplessly out of her chair, body twitching a singular time when her head cracked against the concrete below.

Blood poured from the wound, painting the once white steps that lead to the high school. Simultaneously yelping and slinking down to the ground, Emma gasped, "No! I didn't mean to!"

Rigid hands suddenly pushed firmly against her temples forced her head to tilt backward, her vision seeing their snarling owner, "Yes, you did," the ghost's chilling voice made the goth tremble, wrenching a scream from her murderer's lungs as terrifying whiteness enveloped their world.

"Ems! Wake up!"

"What?!" the girl shot up from her spot laying on her boyfriend, throat dry and scratchy as if she'd been crying for hours.

Head spinning desperately to survey the area, she demanded they leave immediately. Her boyfriend did not understand what had spooked her until the drive ended near the girl's home, giving her proper time to relax. She then was able to explain, realizing herself that they had never been in danger.

"It was just a bad dream," she said, "A horribly vivid nightmare."

Reluctantly departing each other's company, Emma walked around the corner to her home. Although the sight of cop cars in her driveway startled Damian as he passed by to make sure she made it in safely, he knew better than to stop.

"Oh my God!" her mother sobbed, hugging her girl once, then moving to run her hands all over the annoyed teen's face, "Where have you been? Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Emma growled, glancing over at the officers rising from the couch at her appearance, "What's going on?"

"What's going-" the woman mocked incredulously, "You were gone! No word, no note, your door was locked. After what just happened to your friend, what was I supposed to think?"

The mother pulled her daughter tightly into her breast and bawled into her hair. Through fighting, idle threats, raised voices, and suspicion, Emma was barely able to sneak a call to Damian.

"No, they didn't talk to me," the girl informed, "They just asked if Mom needed anything else and left."

"I bet cops get tired of overprotective parents calling them," Damian returned, "Speaking of, you should probably go. Call me in the morning?"

"Of course. I love you."

"I love you too."

Make the call she did, but there was no answer. It took three days of sneaking around and constantly dialing his number for a morbid possibility to cross her mind and it wasn't being of being dumped either. Scrambling through both the trash and random piles of desk work, she found the previous day's paper.

Time slowed. Damian had been found dead just like Amy, their cases now officially labeled homicides. She wondered if this long string of horrible events was some prolonged nightmare. Maybe she would wake up in a hospital to find she'd been in a coma.

The illusion was never shattered. For three more agonizing months, the girl lived before she too, was claimed by this ghastly killer. Yet not before he relayed an eerie message.

"Don't worry," his breath was hot on her cheek while he grasped her by the neck, "You're not like the others. You'll get to reunite with your charming little friends. But don't thank me," his laughter was unsettling, "You can send your gratitude to Fiona."

Once again in the present, the bound ghost leader looked up to where Todd and Chris were sparring, laughing and smiling as they fought playfully. I hate them, she thought, enraged by their carefree happiness. She hadn't always been so full of anger, but as the days wore on, as she was forced to watch everyone she knew live, grow old, and enjoy a life she was denied, her heart became blackened with hatred.

She hated McGraff, she loathed Fiona, she despised Mark and his stupid boyfriend. She had even begun to resent her only companions, including the boy she loved. Or at least, she had loved him. Her mind doubted how capable she was of such affection anymore. Even simple words of kindness had become nigh impossible to utter.

Rising from her seat, Emma began walking away, "Come on. It's time to go to work."

"Where are we going?" Damian was instantly at his girl's side.

"Just shut up and follow me."