They called my Mum. I'm going to be suspended for two days for threatening a child who deserved it. It's ridiculous, really. Boys fight all the time at school. People would pick any small chance to be rid of me as soon as they can.

Mum doesn't say anything to me when she comes to pick me up, and we sit silently in the car as she drives back to the house. She still smells of alcohol, so I know she hasn't showered or anything.

It's only when she parks outside the house, and we unbuckle our seatbelts but don't move, that she lets out a sigh, and I know she is going to say something. She rests her head against the steering wheel. "Why did you do it?" She asks.

"Because he called you names?"

"You do realise who that is, don't you?"

"The son of the red head you screwed?"

"The son of Ben Adley who is our landlord." Mum corrects me bitterly.

Oh. I thought I'd seen him somewhere before. He'd come to check up on the house a couple of times. But now I want to throw up. "You slept with the landlord? And I'm getting told off for yelling at his son? I don't know, Mum but the former kinda seems worse?"

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"But I'm saying things how it is!" I sit up, facing her properly. "Why am I always dismissed for speaking the truth? It's not my fault you end up in bed with every man in this town!"

"Do you think I want this?!" Mum screams at me, taking me by surprise. "Do you think I wanted to sleep with our landlord? Is that how low you think I want to go, Valerie? Is it?"

My jaw clenches. She's never said anything like this before. She's always told me this was something she enjoyed, something that could help her escape."Then why?"

Mum lays her head back on the car seat, and begins to stifle sobs. I wait silently for her to respond. "Rent went up last month..." She covers her eyes with her hand. "Your Dad's not working as much these days. He spends most of his time at the pub messing about with the other men rather than actually doing his job there. I've started to get paid for what I do. Things are not as simple as you think, Valerie."

I snap my mouth shut, not sure what to say to that. Mum sobs a little more before continuing.

"Ben's liked me for years. He's said it to me multiple times. But I've always kept that boundary, you know? I can't sleep with the landlord, after all. But things are just getting difficult. He said he'd spare us if I did him a favour or two. He knows we are a struggling family."

"You're saying that like he's a good person," I say to her, quietly, "He's taking advantage of you."

Mum wipes the tears from her eyes. "Like I said, things aren't as simple as you think. I want you to stay out of my business from now on, Valerie. If someone says anything about me, stay silent. I don't want you to be affected by what I do."

"Well, too late." I open the door, and step out of the car in a huff.

"You know I still love you, right?" Mum calls from behind me, making me stiffen. "I do love you, Val."

I don't respond to that, and head down the road.

"Where are you going?" I hear her ask.

"To the library. I'm heading there then staying with a friend for the rest of the day."

"Fraya?"

"Someone else."

I can't hear whatever else she's said because I'm already too far down the street to listen.

****************************************

RILEY

I've spent the morning sitting outside of Marjorie's shop today, sitting on the porch and watching customers go in and out. After Valerie left, I wasn't sure if I could stay alone in that caravan for much longer. It was easier for triggering memories to come back to me.

However, it had definitely been worth it to not have to wake up and be alone in the morning. Valerie had given me a smile before she left, and it made me want her to stay and not go to college at all. I just feel like now she knows my secret, I can talk about anything and everything with her. I also really like it when she smiles at me. She seems to be smiling more and more the longer I get to know her, but it never seems to be enough. I know I find her attractive. I just wished I could've met her when I was alive, so I could see what her life was like before she got so sad, and her home life got so difficult.

Home...

Mum...

Mum used to like talking to Marjorie at this shop.

Mum should be here with me.

I shake my head, before looking back down at the ground, and decide to occupy my thoughts with counting the small stones on the tarmac.

Marjorie comes out of the shop, causing me to look up as she gives a small stretch, before picking up the watering can from the corner and begins watering the flowers at the front. I watch her miserably, and that memory starts to seep back into my head again, so I stand up, finally deciding I've spent enough time here.

I start to walk back toward the woods, thinking about what I should do now. It's only 1pm. Valerie won't be back from school yet. Maybe I could go and get some more spray cans from the caravan and write another message for her at the park. She might appreciate it. I could surprise her.

"Oh hey, Riley." Valerie says cheerily, causing me to stop right in my tracks as I step inside the caravan. She breaks my chain of numbers just when I get to 219. Why couldn't it be an even number? "Where have you been?"

She's sitting cross-legged on the rolled up sleeping bags with her phone, headphones and a family-sized jar of Nutella beside her, with a plastic spoon in it. There were books sprawled around her.

"What are you doing back here, already? Didn't you have college?" I ask her, confused. "And is that a family-sized jar?"I point to the half-finished jar next to her, and she grabs it and takes another spoonful.

"Is there a problem with it?" She asks.

"Well...no. Anyway, you didn't answer my initial question. Why aren't you at college?"

Valerie rolls her eyes. "I was suspended. Slammed a boy against the wall whose Dad owns a lot of properties around here so I didn't get my side of the story heard, and to be honest the whole college can kiss my ass because I'm honestly not sorry and I'm glad I get two days off."

"Wow. Okay." I raise my eyebrows and can't help but laugh slightly at that, before walking over and sitting beside her. She seems to be fuelling with anger now, a very different expression from when she greeted me when I walked in. Now, I'm kind f glad she's her. She's a better distraction than counting, though."So why did you slam him against a wall?"

"Because he didn't know what he was talking about. He called my Mum a..." She trails off, her eyes widening as she seems to realise what she is about to say, and then she goes quiet. "He was just being rude and ignorant. Besides, I have nothing to lose from doing that."

I think about what Santa had told me about Valerie beating kids up. "Do you do that to people, often?"

"No. Too much drama that comes with it, you know? But this time I was just pissed so I had to. And stop talking to me like you're some therapist."

"I'm not, I'm just asking a reasonable question."

Valerie falls silent again, and then looks at me, her expression softening. "I'm sorry," She says, "I've just had a bad day. You're the last person I want to take things out on."

"Do you ever not have a bad day?" I smile at her teasingly, and she rolls her eyes again. I gesture towards the books lying around everywhere. The sight of it makes me cringe, a little. "You going to tell me what this is all about? Not a fan of coming to see my tenant making a mess of things here."

Valerie raises an eyebrow challengingly, before slamming one of the books shut and showing me the cover. The title Understanding Spiritual Entities had been printed in bold black letters against the blue hardback cover. "Your tenant is trying to find ways to help you, and this mess is evidence." My eyes widen, when I realise what she means, and glance around at the other books that are opened up with colourful tags stuck to the pages. "I spent about an hour trying to collect all these from the public library."

"You're doing all of this for me?" I ask her, in shock. "I didn't expect you to take it so seriously."

"Well how else am I meant to find out about how to help you? I need to know about your existence first."

I lean closer to her, looking at the article she's reading. I'm immediately curious to know everything she's found out. Everything I can know about me, I need to know. Valerie is my perfect source of knowledge, and at this moment, I can't help but feel even more grateful to have her around. "So what have you discovered?" I ask, eagerly.

She scrambles for one of the books beside her, and picks up a thick red one, with the title The Book Of Spiritual Communication, and starts flipping through the pages. "See, this is why I always used to tell Fraya that sometimes physical books can be more helpful than the internet. Google isn't taking me seriously enough. And when it does, it doesn't quite have exactly what I need. We need actual full books that explain things in depth, and plus, there's no feeling like the authentic feeling of reading an actual book." She stops flipping and shows me the page she'd found. "Look at this. This is an extremely old book, but look at what it says."

I lean in to read the page she's opened for me.

Spiritual communication can be formed through either the practising of sacred rituals, or the natural connection between the physical and spiritual souls of two beings.

People are often naturally connected through reincarnation, a strong former relationship to a spirit that was once alive or a soul that mirrors the other on a deeper level....... For these two beings to form a unity with one another, an emotional and spiritual agreement is often made, sometimes unconsciously, for them to be officially tied together with the aim of fulfilling their other half..........

......this particular connection also comes in various forms such as the famous "Guardian Angel" concept, or even the much-loved "Soulmates" idea that many seem to buy into. However, one should understand that these are not as romantic and simple-minded as the modern media portray it, with several other complex factors coming into play when this agreement is formed.

"A spiritual agreement?" I look back up at Valerie. "It doesn't seem to elaborate on that much. Do you think we made an agreement?"

"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it? I couldn't see you before. Not until that day at the park."

"The graffiti." I sit up straight. "We were connected by the graffiti."

"But how?" Valerie bites her thumb nail, before picking up one of the other books. "Even the book says on the next page that the true explanation of how souls are mirrored is currently unknown. But then again, it is pretty old. I just can't find much else. It's so annoying."

I sigh, resting my head in my hands.

"Even though I can't find much about our connection, I've been able to find out a lot about why ghosts are still here on this earth." Valerie says to me.

"I already know it's because I have something unfinished to get done." I reply, frustrated.

"Yes, but for some ghosts...apparently it's because the way they died was so traumatic. They left their life and loved ones so abruptly," Valerie says, quietly, "Like those who were murdered or in accidents. Riley...maybe your unfinished job isn't something specific, but something a lot wider than that. Maybe you have to make peace with things that happened in your life in general."

I shake my head. I could never make peace with the problems in my life. My problem was my home. My Dad. The man who made my life a living hell. Was I supposed to forgive him? I had already guessed a few times it was that painting I wasn't able to finish because he broke it. But I need to keep reminding myself that it's impossible to finish it now."You don't understand anything about my life, Valerie. There's a lot you still don't know."

"Yeah, but what I do know is that you miss your friends. Wouldn't it be nice to get to see them again and say a proper goodbye? Don't you think that would help your soul to finally be at rest?"

"I can't see them again. They don't live around here anymore, remember?"

"Yeah, but social media exists, Riley. I can find them."

I look at her. "You can find them?" With a year of living without my phone and the internet, I'd forgotten how easily people could do things with sources of communication. I can feel a small spark of hope rising inside me, as Valerie starts tapping into her phone.

"What's their usernames on any platform? I'm sure I can find them." She says it so casually, not noticing how butterflies are erupting in my stomach, as I try to control my excitement.

"Macey is UnstableIdiot and Ash is Ashlikestoread1 on Instagram." I say to her, and then snicker at the thought of them.

Valerie looks at me. "I can really tell how different they both are." She laughs, before typing their names into Instagram. Her eyebrows crease, making my heart drop to my stomach.

"What? What is it?"

"Ash isn't here." She shows me a blank screen beneath the search bar. "Maybe he changed it?"

"Maybe." I try not to express my disappointment, but it probably doesn't work. "Try Mace."

She types in his name, and then shows me the screen. Several options have come up, but I recognise Macey's profile immediately. "That one." I point, my voice hoarse.

Macey has kept the same picture on his profile for almost a year: the image of our caravan when we first redecorated it. A sense of nostalgia comes over me, unwelcomed and painful, as I remember how many pictures he took of that place. He'd only just got a phone back then, and took about two thousand pictures and selfies of just about anything. I remember he almost made Ash cry when he threatened to put his pictures on social media if he didn't watch a movie with us.

As me and Valerie look through his posts, I realise that most of them are old and from back when I was alive. Selfies we'd taken together, graffiti art we'd made, more pictures at the caravan. My throat seems to tighten as Valerie scrolls through, and I begin to relive all the memories behind the pictures. The last one he posted was at the beginning of November last year-a week before I died. It is a picture of cookies iced with the transgender flag that the three of us decided to bake for transgender awareness week, and had been captioned, "baking with the boys #transawarenessweek".

Mace. I miss you. I miss you guys so much.

"What's his Snapchat?" Valerie asks. "He may not add me back, but it's worth a shot."

"It's the same as his Instagram." I reply, quietly.

"Riley..." Valerie puts her phone down, and attempts to place her hand on my shoulder, but seems to remember and draws it back. It makes me feel worse, and now she looks guilty. "I'm so sorry. But listen, we can still find them. It's not the end yet. It's not the end."

"I know...and I really want to believe that what you're saying is true. I'm trying to." I say to her, "I just don't want to get my hopes up for something that's not one hundred percent possible."

"I get it, and I understand. But I'm going to find a way, I promise. We'll find Macey and he can tell us about Ash."

Hey guys!

I just want to mention that I am aware Riley's OCD hasn't been fully explained up to this point, and yes it is a reason he goes into these spirals of emotions every now and again. It will all be explained better soon, I promise!

Also, in relation to Valerie's Mum, I want to say I mean no disrespect to sex workers or anything like that, and my intent is not to portray them in a bad light. Many women go through the situation Valerie's Mum is in, but I want to remind everyone that there are women who are not doing sex work because they have to. They just want to, and that's okay. I felt I had to put that here. 

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, and have a lovely day!