The Invisible Girl

Time moves oddly in dreams. Sometimes it feels like an eternity of sleep, when in reality only minutes have passed. Other times, however, the entire night goes by in a flash.

                Jamie couldn’t remember which one she was experiencing when she rolled over in the soft dirt. Her fingertips brushed against the moist earth, and for a second she thought she was home, laying in her front lawn as the afternoon sun casted a warm blanket over her sun-kissed face.

                But it was dark, and the air was so unbelievably cold that she absentmindedly crossed her arms over her lethargic body.

                What’s going on? Her starry eyes opened groggily. Where am I?

Her hands shot out from under her and searched the ground for something — anything — recognizable. The wind blew violently overhead, its shrieks sending waves of terror throughout her body. How did I get here? The question whirled around in her mind as she scrambled to her feet, realizing that her vision registered nothing but darkness.

                The rain began to fall as she stumbled about in the night, taking haphazard steps in the dank air. Little droplets splashed relentlessly against her ghostly figure and she shielded her eyes from the onslaught in response to it.

                A twig snapped in the distance.

                Jamie’s silhouette froze at the sudden noise, surprised that the faint crack was even audible against the oncoming storm. Her eyes scanned the swirling mass of blackness that surrounded her as the rain’s intensity gradually increased. She waited a minute before allowing her body to relax. Just your imagination, she thought, letting a soft sigh escape from between her chattering teeth. Must’a been one hell of a night.

                She was no stranger to parties, and more than once had woken up, dazed and confused, in an unrecognizable place. And though she’d be punished for strolling through the doors past curfew, past lunchtime of the next day in some cases, she’d always had a giddy smile plastered to her face. Those parties were what she lived for. They were gasoline to an inferno that blazed somewhere deep inside her gut, and no one was going to stop her from letting the fire burn.  

                Another twig snapped, and the ominous noise echoed off of the night sky. This one was close. Dangerously close, as if whatever made the sound was advancing quickly.

                Run. Before her mind could even register the command, she had already broken off into a sprint.

                Where was she going? Jamie had no idea where she was, or where exactly she was running to, and the pounding storm was making the ground dissolve around her feet. The soft dirt melted away into rivulets of ankle-deep mud. Her lungs begged for air that they did not receive, and her muscles ached for rest, but she kept running. Adrenaline pumped through her veins like a drug, and she instantaneously felt the same surge of energy that she craved from those concerts and clubs. The flight-or-fight survival instinct was almost as pleasuring as the rush of pounding music and dancing bodies.

                A scream erupted from her body as she tumbled to the ground, and she winced at the muffled clack as her head collided with something hard, pain resonating behind her eyes.

                The gusting wind carried away her pain filled moans before being stifled against the rumbling thunder. She lied in a pathetic heap in the mud, her dirty palms rubbing against whatever she tripped over while her eyes readjusted in order to gaze at the letters printed in front of her.

Mary Foster. 1935-1994.

                Oh God, no, she thought, scrambling to her feet, Oh God, I'm in a graveyard! Blood ran down her face in a steady stream, mixing with the mud and sweat that caked her entire body. The idea of waking up in a graveyard terrified her, and she figured then that it wasn’t a crazy party that got her there.

                The fringes of her vision blurred in the torrent of rain as she ran blindly about, desperately trying to escape the place of the dead. She rarely stayed on her feet as she tripped over the countless headstones that struck her shins. How terribly ironic would it be for her to die there. No, she whispered to the numerous decaying skeletons under her feet, No, please don’t wake up. She couldn’t let herself perish like that. She was just a speck in a world of specks in a universe of specks lost in oblivion, and she refused to let her little speck disappear like a blip on the screen. Not in a place that she didn’t recognize. Not in a graveyard.

                Eventually her feet touched asphalt, and she tumbled out of the cemetery’s entrance, a high, metal archway covered in vines, but she would not let herself stop. Her body begged for rest. It fought and argued against her decision to keep going, but she knew better. If she rested, or even sat down, then she wasn’t getting up again. As much as she wanted to stop, she would die if she did so. Even though she was back in the land of the living, rest still wasn’t an option.

                I can sleep in tomorrow, she thought torpidly, pressing her palm against the gushing wound on her head, I just have to get home first. But where was home? Where was she? With the adrenaline wearing off, Jamie was left with the broken and bruised body she had woken up to. Every ounce of energy was spent, and her brisk sprint died down to a slow walk, which in turn slowed to the point where she was simply rambling around in the dark. She shivered, the rain soaking her bones as lightning ominously illuminated the dreary road that she walked on. Her head throbbed, and every clash of thunder opened up another nerve in her brain.

                “Hey, are you alright?”

Her head jolted up in response to the voice, filling her vision with an intense light. She held her hand out to shield her eyes from the headlights of the car that had somehow materialized in front of her.

“Are you alright?” he asked again.

The fact that a person was standing a few feet away from her had somehow slipped her mind, and she stared at him with curiosity of how he got there.

                No words formed when Jamie opened her mouth. What would she say? The boy peered at her through the curtain of rain and she could clearly see his mouth open in shock. She was covered in a thick layer of blood and grime. Her hair was stringy and soaked from the rain, and her eyes darted fearfully at her surroundings, wide against the bright beams of the headlights. She was certain she looked like she’d fit in more with the dead than the living.

                He took a step forward, forcing her take a corresponding step back.

                “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” He said, putting his hands out in front of him, displaying his innocence. He tried again to step forward, but got the same result.

                “Where am I?” Jamie demanded, squinting painfully from the car’s burning light.

                “What’s your name?” he asked, ignoring her question.

                Jamie’s mind backtracked, and she was suddenly confused. Other than escaping the graveyard, she hadn’t thought of anything since waking up. Who was she? Who was she really? It felt like a hammer was pounding against the side of her head. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t remember.

                He began to move towards her again, but she staggered away. “Stop it!” She shouted at him, stumbling backwards before catching herself. “Don’t touch me!”

                “Okay, okay,” he said a little gentler than he should have. “But what’s your name?” He looked like he was talking to a frightened animal. And in a logical sense, he was.

                “Jamie,” she croaked in a raspy, tired voice. “My name is Jamie.”

                “Jamie?” he asked incredulously, his whole frame stiffening. “Jamie Everheart?”

                “I don’t…” she gazed at him with the eyes of a stranger. “I don’t know you.”

                “Jamie, it’s me.” He advanced more confidently now, and his tone was that of desperation. “It’s me, Luke. Don’t you remember me?”

                The name sounded strikingly familiar. She couldn’t see him against the intense shine of the car’s headlights, but his name hit a nerve. She was overcome with the hazy aroma of popcorn and cotton candy, and was brought back to the land of rollercoasters and carnival lights. Yes, she knew this boy. She knew him from somewhere.

                “I’ve been looking for you,” he continued, pulling her back to reality. “You’ve been gone for months.”

                Months? No, that couldn’t have been right. It was just a few days ago when she was buying her costume for Halloween. Her mom had told her to be careful…

                Rain dripped into her eyes and blurred her vision as she pressed her hand against her aching head, desperately trying to remember. No, not months. She hadn’t been gone months. The confusion made her sick, and the fact that warm, crimson-colored liquid was seeping out from between her frail fingers didn’t help. What was going on? Who was he?

                The events that she had experienced finally caught up to her weary bones. She vaguely concluded that it was the blood loss that was causing her to blackout. She tried to open her mouth, to ask for help, but the world became very distant. The pitter patter of rain became muffled, like someone had placed a pillow over her senses, and numbness took over instantaneously. The world turned on its side as the ground rushed up to meet her, and the blackness that clouded the fringes of her vision finally spilled over to engulf her entire being.

* * *

                Jamie woke up the next morning, sprawled out on a dusty beige couch, tucked beneath several layers of blankets. What happened? She asked herself, rolling over in the soft fabric. Oh God, trippy dreams? She scolded herself, running a hand through her tangled dark hair, This party thing is getting out of hand.

                But in the next few moments she realized that the night before hadn't been a dream, and that didn’t recognize the room that she was in.

                Caught in a stupor that much resembled a bad hangover, Jamie had tried to leave the small apartment complex before Luke, who she had vaguely recognized from the night before, woke up and had stopped her.

                “I wouldn’t do that, love,” He murmured soothingly, leading her lethargic frame back towards the couch. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

                After sitting her down, Luke went on to recount the events of the night before, and watched as Jamie began to recall the rain and lightning that echoed throughout her mind.

There was no telling what was real anymore. She had awoken to find no marks on her body whatsoever. He said that there was barely a scratch on her from that night even after she passionately explained that she had in fact collided with a gravestone. It was the blood loss that caused her to faint in the first place. She had been bleeding profusely, and wondered why she wasn’t taken to a hospital.

But there was no blood, no concussion, and no lacerations. She was just dirty and wet, covered with nothing but a few bruises.    

Where did that leave her? Sitting across from a guy who apparently knew more about her than she did.

“What happened to me?” she asked, staring up at Luke from where she sat.

“I don’t know exactly.” He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on the coffee table in front of her. “We went to a carnival one night, and I turned around for a second and you were gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just gone,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a sadness that she did not quite understand. “I looked everywhere for you, I called the cops, but you had just disappeared.”

  “What about my family?” Jamie asked, then pondered the fact that she couldn’t quite remember. “I have a family, right?”

He chuckled, taking her small, delicate hand in his large ones. They were rough against her skin, and a strange sense of familiarity passed over her. “Yes, parents and a little sister. I would have taken you to them last night, but they aren’t home. At least not yet.”

“What?” Jamie asked. What did he mean they weren’t home? Where could they have gone?

“They’re missionaries, right?” He fought to get the right words out, and squeezed her hands comfortingly, which were engulfed by his own. “They spread the good word by going deep into like, third-world countries. As far as I know they’re in Africa and won’t be back for a while.”

“Missionaries?” Jamie scoffed, throwing her arms out in an erratic gesture. "I’ve been missing, and they’re off on some vacation? What kind of family does that?”

Luke leaned forward, looking deeply into her disenchanted eyes. “The kind that asked me to keep looking for you while they were gone,” he said seriously, a ghostly shadow of a smile appearing across his features. “They’ll be so happy when they come back. You’ll remember then.”

“But I don’t remember anything.”

“Well then, I’ll just have to help you,” he retorted cheerily, releasing her hands in order to grip her shoulders, giving them a reassuring shake. “We’ll go down to the police station to tell them you’re still kicking, then I’ll take you back to your place. I’m sure you’ll remember then.”

Jamie’s hands balled up into awkward fists at her sides. "Why do you care? Who are you?”

“I’m Luke. I told you.” He joked sarcastically, his toothy grin gleaming in the morning light.

“I mean what are you to me?”

“We’re married,” he quipped quickly.

“You dirty liar.” She smirked, surprised that she was capable of such cheeky comebacks.

“Okay, okay,” he surrendered, carefully leaning closer in order to test Jamie’s boundaries. When she didn’t move, he cupped her face with one of his hands. “But we were something, Jamie. Something a lot of people miss out on in life.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek. It was light and innocent, but his lips lingered for a few more moments than necessary. “Don’t worry, you’ll remember.”

But he was still a stranger to her.  

***

The weather had morphed from the storm of the century that had occurred the night before, to a pleasant spring afternoon in a matter of hours. The police station shimmered brightly against the fluorescent atmosphere, and Jamie had to shield her eyes as she awaited Luke’s return.

She did not recognize the town, or anyone in it for that matter.

And she pictured returning home to be so different than what was happening. She stood on the corner across the street from a glimmering police station, leaning against a pole that jutted out from the concrete. The faces of those that passed her were unrecognizable, and they walked by without a glance. They didn't know her, and continued on their way as if she didn't exist at all.

But why? What had happened to her? What event was so traumatic that her mind blotted it out completely?

She looked over to find Luke jogging across the street, waving in her general direction. "Good news and bad," he said, catching his breath. "Good news is they're relieved you're back. Bad news is they can't help us with the amnesia thing."

"Well why not?" she asked, a bit insulted at the police response. She had been gone for months, after all.

Luke frowned at her reaction, troubled that he had upset her. "They're busy, you know? I mean this place isn’t the safest," he futilely explained. "And they're glad you're back and all, but because of that they don't think there's anything left to do with your case."

"I was gone for months and now I'm not important?"

"You are important," Luke urged shaking her shoulders lightly. "They've just got other cases to take care of." He paused, and the uneasy silence stretched out between them in awkward waves. "Let's go to your house," he finally decided. "You'll remember then."

They walked along the crowded sidewalks, Jamie's hand clutching Luke's arm as they passed by groups of people she didn't recognize. Groups of people that didn’t even register her existence.

"Why don't any of them know me?" Jamie asked, peering up into Luke's face. "I come back after disappearing, and they’re looking at me like I don’t even exist."

"They're jerks, then," he said blithely, tugging her further along. "I don't know who your friends are. I've never met them." She could see his forehead crease in thought. "You liked to meet up with them at parties and stuff."

       "Parties, huh?" She remembered that. Out of everything about her life that she had blacked out, it was the crazy raves she remembered. Her parents hated her for it. She’d been grounded more times than she could count, and had been through hours of therapy in order to treat what they thought was a problem. But nothing could stop her from going to the insane parties that she so dearly craved. She was addicted, and did absolutely nothing to stop it. Her parents, angry and distraught, explained time and time again that a good little Christian shouldn't be out to all hours of the night, but then again, she wasn't a good little Christian. Not in the slightest.

"So," Jamie wondered, her grip on his arm tightening as more pedestrians passed by. "What was I like?"

Luke smiled, more than happy to answer her question. According to him, she was a well-liked, nice girl that blended into the walls of the school. She was famous for vanishing in a crowd, as if she never existed at all. Aside from him, her group of friends was small, most of which left when she disappeared. No one really knew her, except at the ever familiar raves and concerts she was famous for going to. Only then could one pull back the curtain and truly see her.  

When they arrived at the faded door of the old, Victorian-style house, Jamie looked at it oddly. "Are you sure this is my house?" She asked incredulously.

Luke, his determination unwavering, opened the door and confidently led her through. "Yup," he said, tugging her by the hand and into the spacious living room, "this is it. Feel anything?"

"No, no," she shook her head. "This can’t be mine. It looks like no one's been here in ages." But as soon as she closed her mouth she realized the actuality of her statement. Of course no one had been there. Her family was full of missionaries. They were out preaching in Africa, and most likely hadn't stepped in the house in months. And Jamie, well, she didn't know exactly where she'd been.

"Okay, so not here." Luke gazed around at the old book shelves and untouched couch cushions. The entire place looked abandoned. "Which, I mean, I understand. Your house has always been kinda off-putting. I swear it's a haven for ghosts."

She laughed, then realized that she hadn't heard herself laugh before then. It sounded bizarre, almost alien as it passed through her lips and out into the air.   

                Luke, satisfied with her response, continued. "Well, let's go up to your room. If anything, you'll remember then." He waited for her to move, transfixed by the blissful look on her face, before realizing that she didn't know the way. He grabbed her pale hand and led a giggling Jamie up the stairs.

“Viola!" He exclaimed, dramatically throwing open the doors and shuffling her in. "Welcome home!"

She stared quizzically at her surroundings. Contrary to the mute walls downstairs, she was enclosed by bright hues and brilliant shades of blues and yellows.

"Your parents hired someone to paint them white," Luke said, watching Jamie's gaze intently, "but you refused and painted them yourself."

She walked around the room as Luke made himself comfortable on an enormous black comforter. It completely engulfed the bed, which was nothing more than two mattresses stacked on top of each other in the corner of the room. She wandered about the mystical atmosphere and listened as he gushed about every detail in the small space.

"You got that in fourth grade,” he explained as her fingers brushed against the ratty teddy bear that sat comfortably on a night stand. “Or, at least, that’s what you told me. We only met a year ago.”

“A year ago, huh?” Her voice was unusually whimsical as she tried to soak up a life that she had lived before. She stared at pictures, pictures of her, pictures that she took, and tried to dig out those memories that were trapped somewhere deep inside her mind. “How did we meet?”

“A concert,” he remarked, leafing through a book that he pulled off of a nearby shelf.

“What band was it?” she studied the piles of CDs next to the bed, following the trail of wires that led to a vintage stereo that looked like it had been fished out of a thrift store.

“Don’t remember.” He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “I was too captivated by your beauty to pay attention.”

“You’re disgusting.” Jamie laughed, joining him on the bed. “Did my family know about you?” she asked, shifting closer to him. There was a distinct connection between them, and now that he found her it was as if an outside force was pulling them together. He threw his arms around her affectionately as she spoke. “I sort of remember what they were like, and I don’t think they’d approve of a guy like you.”

“A guy like me?” Luke scoffed, maneuvering around so that they were both lying down within the nest of blankets and pillows. “I’ll have you know that you’re family liked me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he grinned, kissing her hair, “We spent every moment together, except when you went out.”

Jamie, enveloped in his arms, gazed at the hypnotizing colors on the wall. “Why didn’t you come? We met at a concert. Raves are no different, really. The music choice, maybe, but still.”

Luke laughed, tightening his hold on her ghostlike body. “Oh, I never went with you. I guess that’s why your family let me stick around. I didn’t share your strange obsession with parties.”

“Then what did you do?” she asked, knowing that she went out almost every other night.

Jamie smiled in response to the sound that he made, which was a cross between a sigh and a chuckle. “Everyone’s got a hobby.”

It seemed like they had spent hours in her room, nestled in what Jamie believed was a piece of her personality, cut out and put on display. But her eyes were heavy and she snuggled deeper in his grasp, knowing very well that time was tricky when one was tired.

She rolled over on top of him, creating waves in the black fabric. “Why don’t I remember?” She asked to no one in particular. “I mean, this is my room. Something should strike a nerve.”

Luke ran a comforting hand down her back. “I’m sorry, Jamie,” he said solemnly, stroking her cheek with a frown. “I thought this would help.”

She looked at the walls, the bed, the shelves filled with things that she could not identify as her own. “I feel like a stranger.”

“But this is your home,” Luke urged. “This is your life.”

And yet, she was just a distant figure looking in. This was her room. She knew that by the pictures and school work with her name on it, but this was by no means her life. She didn’t know what she was looking at, but it wasn’t a life. Nothing stuck out.

Except what she remembered when Luke first told her his name.

“What are you thinking about, babe?” he asked thoughtfully, pushing stray hairs out of her face.

Jamie turned her attention back towards him, and leaned her elbows on his chest. “Take me to the carnival.”

“The carnival?” he asked, disbelief crossing his features.

“Yeah,” she said, more confidently this time, “I want to go there.”

“Why? Why would you want to?”

“Well, you said I disappeared from there, right?” She fought for the right words to defend her argument. “What if I remember something from that?”

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to go. The carnival was the first thing she remembered, and not only did she remember the fact that she had been there, but she remembered all the senses that came with it. The hazy lights, the frivolous screams of people that ran by, even the comforting aroma of kettle corn and cotton candy. If she was going to remember anything, it would be there.

“Well,” Luke’s voice was strained, “Are you sure you’re ready for that? Are you sure it’s not too soon?”

“I want to go.”

“Why don’t we wait a few days? I’m sure you’ll be ready then.”

“Why don’t you want me to go?” Jamie asked defensively. “Did something happen there?”

Luke’s attitude instantly changed. “No, it’s not that.” He thought for a moment, trying to find a way to justify his argument. “I’m just worried. I just got you back, Jamie.”

“So help me remember,” she said urgently, her hands balling up into fists on Luke’s chest. “Take me to the carnival.”

***

The sun was setting by the time they reached the front gates. The rusty bars were locked shut, and it was obvious that they had been for a while. Luke explained that the games and rides only ran until winter began, then the owner would close up shop, setting the entire area to sleep until the summer.

But the sleeping land seemed dead upon their arrival. When the owner left, he took with him the joys and laughter that a carnival provided. Now all that was left were the lifeless remains of tents and rides. Stuffed animals still swayed in the wind, but they had long lost their stuffing, and were covered in a thick layer of grime. The wooden frames of the more permanent building were rotting away, and the paintings that once illuminated the walkways were faded. It looked wrong, as if the area was an unjust act against her childhood.  

Jamie wandered through the desolate lots, listening to the squish of her feet as they muddled through the soft dirt. Looking around, she couldn’t help but get the feeling of emptiness. The whole place had been forgotten. The sense of normality that she so desperately hoped for had been erased, and now everything was decaying away. Leaving nothing except a carcass of happiness.

 “Are you sure this is it?” Jamie asked, listening to the metal skeletons shudder in the wind. But Luke had vanished from her field of vision, leaving her with nothing but her thoughts. This couldn’t have been the carnival that she disappeared from. She had only been gone months, and this place looked as if it hadn’t been touched in decades.

Vines entangled the old Tilt-A-Whirl, and the steel bones creaked under the weight of the vegetation. There was no way that this was the right place, for this place was dead.

She shut her eyes, trying to imagine the daze of fluorescent, flickering lights, and inhaled, pretending that she could still smell the aroma of popcorn and fried foods. And for a second, she remembered, but it wasn’t funnel cake she smelled.

It was blood.

She gaged, the sick stench of gore overwhelming her senses. The smell of dying souls was suffocating, and she staggered back in an effort to escape.

Jamie winced at the ear-splitting scream that seemed to erupt next to her ear, but when she tried to shout out in pain, her mouth was filled with the sticky crimson fluid that clogged her ability to smell. She spat out onto the earth, desperate to get the viscous death out of her mouth, but there was nothing, as if she wasn’t choking at all.

“Well,” Luke’s voice was sultry as he appeared a few feet behind her, “do you remember yet?”

“What’s happening?!” she cried, coughing in a futile attempt to rid herself of the blood that didn’t exist.

He laughed, but it was only background noise to the painful screams in her ear. “So you do remember.”

Bent over, her hands on her knees, Jamie took ragged breaths, desperately trying to regain whatever sanity she had left. After a few moments, the painful wails died down and she was able to inhale air as the smell of decay gradually disappeared. “What was that?” she gasped, horrified by what just happened. “What did you do to me?”

“Nothing yet.” Luke quipped, casually shoving his thumbs in his pockets. “Oh, come on, Jamie.” He gazed at her terrified expression with a joking smile. “The fun part hasn’t even begun.”

But unlike Luke, Jamie was angry. Angry and betrayed. “You liar!” She shouted, hurling a rock at him. “You said you’d take me to the carnival and you didn’t you sick bastard!”

She never had much aim, so the rock that she threw sailed past him. “Oh really?” He asked, his smile creeping farther up the sides of his face. “Because this is the right place. You disappeared from here.”

“How? This place probably hasn’t been touched in decades!”

“Well that’s true.” He snorted. And after looking at Jamie’s incredulous face, he sighed. “This place hasn’t been opened in probably twenty years. Which, just so happens, to be when you were kidnapped. They say that the two weren’t related, but I’m not one to believe in coincidences.”

Jamie stared at him, her face contorted in confusion. “What?”

Luke, unamused, let out a dramatic groan. “Don’t you get it?” He asked irritably. “You’re dead! You have been for a while!”

Silence stretched out between them as Jamie tried to comprehend his words. “Dead? What? No, that’s not possible.” She thought for a moment, struggling to put the pieces together. And his words, as unbelievable as they sounded, made sense. If she was dead then it would explain why she woke up that day without the wounds that she experienced the night before. It would explain why no one looked at her while they were downtown, and how no one even registered that she was alive. They didn’t see her because she wasn’t actually there. It would explain why her home was untouched and layered in dust. It made more sense for the house to be that dirty if no one had been there in years instead of months. And her episode, her mental breakdown in which she heard screams and tasted blood. Those were her screams. Her blood. A memory from when she died.

“How?” She asked finally.

“Ah, now that’s the million dollar question.” He chuckled, cracking his knuckles nonchalantly. “I love you, Jamie.” He said profoundly. “I always have, but you were a little suspicious of me I guess.” His forehead creased with concern. “I mean, especially when the neighborhood pets started to go missing, but of course you believed me when I told you I had nothing to do with it.” Luke looked up to stare at her with hopeful eyes. “You always believed me.

“But when the neighbors started going missing?” He shook his head. “And our classmates? Well, I guess you didn't want to believe me anymore."

"Wait," Jamie said, her mind spinning with images of missing posters plastered on the walls of their school. It was starting to come back to her.

It was early October when Ally, the third victim, went missing. She was the stereotypical mean girl, and had relentlessly bullied anyone who she felt was inferior, including Jamie. The police scoured the city and surrounding area only to find the body of another student, Alex, who had gone missing shortly after Ally.

After that, bodies were turning up everywhere. Missing posters painted the school with an ominous threat that loomed over their heads. Seven kids were gone, and everyone else was fair game.

"You did that?" She asked with disbelief, even though she already knew the answer.

"Everyone's got a hobby." he smirked casually, proud that they were nearing the fun part. "The first one was just by chance. Jeff, he had it coming. Talking trash about you to me. He never saw it coming. But I tell you, Jamie. I was covered in his blood. His brains were all over the floor, and I realized that I liked it." He chuckled, reminiscing one of his favorite memories. "Way better than those ratty cats. It felt like I was starving myself, and once I killed Jeff, it was like discovering an all you can eat buffet.

"So I kept doing it. I mean, you always went out, which gave me plenty of time." His booming laugh echoed off of the decaying rides and dirty, candy cane-colored tents. "And plenty of choices."

Memories came flooding back into her, and with them came the taste of blood.

The entire city was on edge, but of course a rampaging serial killer was no reason to stay home. Jamie still went out, almost nightly, convinced that nothing could touch her bubble of perfection that her parties so wonderfully provided.

And by Halloween, a total of ten people were reported missing, and only eight bodies had been recovered. The students were on edge, and kept their heads down, fearing that sticking out could very well mean death.

And her mother warned her. A killer was on the loose, after all. She told Jamie to be careful as her careless daughter left the house without a second thought. 

“You killed them, Luke? All of them?”

“They deserved it!” Luke shouted indignantly. “Don’t you get it? I killed them for you! I did it all for you!”

Jamie shook her head worriedly, “What are you talking about?”

Angry tears ran down Luke’s distraught face. “They were all mean to you, Jamie. I saw how much they hurt you, so I made sure they could never hurt you again.”

“By killing them?” She yelled, then stopped abruptly. They had that same exact argument, word for word, before. “By killing me?”

Jamie was beautiful that night, and was festively dressed in a newly bought racy cat costume. Her date with Luke, who was particularly charming that night, was going perfectly, and the couple melded into the faceless crowd. She didn’t want to go out that night, but Luke insisted, and whatever he wanted she happily obliged. Their entire night was filled with giddy laughter and twinkling lights. The hazy music and aroma of funnel cakes entrapped the couple in a stupor of happiness.

But then they saw the posters. One of the many missing posters tacked up around the grounds, and that ignited the last argument she would ever have. The exact argument that they were having now.

“I don’t know why you were mad.” Luke insisted, watching Jamie with a somber face. “But you were. You didn’t understand, and I really tried to get you to see that it was all for you,” his voice soured, “but you were too upset. You wanted to turn me in, Jamie. Can you believe that?”

“No.” Jamie whispered. No, she couldn’t believe anything anymore. She couldn’t believe that she was dead. She couldn’t believe that Luke had killed her, and she couldn’t believe that the boy she loved in a past life suddenly pulled out a knife.  

“I didn’t mean to. I swear, but I just got so angry.” His eyes stared at her coldly. “I did it all for you, and you didn’t appreciate any of it. You had to learn a lesson.”

“A lesson?” Jamie scoffed, upset by his words. “You killed me!”

“I know. It was an accident.” He explained. “But you know what? When I killed you, I felt something. It was so different from all the other times. You were special, Jamie. The feeling I got from watching the life drain out of your eyes was like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

“You’re one sick puppy.” Jamie sneered.

“I’m dead too if it makes you feel any better.” He explained seriously. “After the high of killing you faded. All I felt was guilt. It was killing me. I loved you. When you left me, I didn’t know what to do. Why’d you have to get so upset, Jamie? Why’d you have to make me kill you? I didn’t want to. I couldn’t live with myself, so I didn’t.”

“You committed suicide?”

“That same night. I took you to the graveyard, but I couldn’t bear to part with you. I couldn’t believe what I’d done, so I killed myself the same way I killed you. I died with you, Jamie. And now we’re together again.” He thought for a moment. “I’m glad you didn’t remember anything this time. The last few times you still had memories.”

“Next time?” Jamie asked, eyeing the cool metal of the blade that he held.

“What do you think this is?” He gestured between them. “It’s a cycle. Sometimes you remember nothing, like now, sometimes you remember everything, and sometimes it’s only bits and pieces.” He sighed. “You wake up in the graveyard. When you don’t remember anything, or only have fragments, I help you. But the times you wake up with memories, all you do is run.”

“Why?”

“Because I kill you of course.” He fingered the knife. “That’s how it’s always been. And every time, I get that feeling again. That rush that I felt the moment I hurt you for the first time. That feeling I got when you died in my arms. I thought I was addicted to you? Turns out I was just addicted to killing you.”

“You kill me?” Jamie asked, slowly backing away from him. “Again?”

“And then everything resets.” He finished, running his fingers across the knife. “Though, I have to admit. You figured everything out pretty quickly this time.” He strode forward as he talked, his charming voice captivating Jamie’s attention. “When you wake up clueless it usually takes you weeks, sometimes even months to figure it all out, but not this time. Kudos to you.”

“Please, Luke,” she whispered, frozen in place, “don’t do this.”

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He said somberly, stroking her face with his hand. “You need to understand that it’s been like this for a very long time.”

“I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” he smiled, leaning in to kiss the corners of her mouth, and Jamie sucked in a breath of air as the knife plunged into her body, “but I love this more.”

Luke removed the blade, and she felt a sharp jerk as the tip caught against her ribcage. He stabbed it into her again and again, each time the knife sinking deeper into her flesh.

She tasted the blood again, but this time it was very real. It seeped out of her mouth, dripping unceremoniously onto the earth.

There was blood everywhere. She gagged, choking on the syrupy fluid. It overwhelmed her senses, and the open wounds soaked straight through her thin shirt.

She felt herself being laid carefully on the ground, and blood-covered hands pushing stray hairs out of her pale face.

And Luke waited, his bloody hands still shaky from the intense rush. He sat idly by her shredded body and watched the life dwindle in her eyes before going out completely. He stroked her ghostly face affectionately as she took in her last breaths, and smiled when the ragged gasps stopped altogether.

“See you in a bit.” He cooed, leaning down to kiss her dead forehead.  And after he was satisfied that she was gone, he sat there, thinking about how lucky he was to have loved someone so beautiful.     

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