The next morning I am greeted by birdsong and a gentle rustling in the draping curtain of willow branches that surround us. My eyes flutter open. I haven’t been asleep, not exactly. It’s more like a period of extended relaxation. Something I didn’t discover until Sam taught me to close my eyes and drift away.

He stirs beside me, and I peek at him when I think he’s not looking, just a quick sideways glance. He’s studying the river, soft brown eyes serious, watching it crash against the rocks. The sun is bright today, and the tree branches above our heads sway in a slight breeze, sending rippling shadows over his face. They paint a halo over his brown curls. He was so comforting last night. His arms around me, solid and reassuring, chasing away the horrible images my mind insisted on dredging up again and again.

A faint blush colors my cheeks at the thought of how nervous I’d been last night. How we had slowly graduated from hand holding…to this. To me being cradled in his arms.

He turns his head, catches me looking and smiles. I fidget and look away, looking at my feet, at the river, at the tall trees around us. Anything to keep him from seeing how self conscious I am. What does he see when he looks at me? What if he regrets it now, what if he doesn’t want me to stay with him again? I can’t stand another night in the house…

He says, “What are you thinking right now? This very minute.”

I hesitate.“ I just wanted to say…thanks for letting me stay with you.  I can’t stay in that house again. I just can’t do it. Even if I don’t sleep…”

He says eagerly, “Don’t then. Stay with me, every night.”

His arms tighten around me, sending a pleasant chill all through me.

“Really?” I smile at him and then duck my head, feeling suddenly shy. Maybe it will always be this way. Maybe I can sleep by his side in the grass every night.“Thanks.”

“Of course.” He sounds happy. “It’s lonely here too, so I’m glad of the company.”

I think of him waiting by the river for seven years, all alone, and tears sting my eyes.

Finally I force myself to look at him, to meet his dark eyes. “I don’t know why you waited for me.”

He looks startled. “You think you’re not worth it?”

I fidget, running my fingers over the soft fabric of my sweater, avoiding his gaze as he stares down at me. “Not for seven years.”

“Breanna…”

I feel gentle fingers under my chin. He tilts my face up so I have to meet his eyes. “You are worth it. Worth every second.”

His hand on my face stirs a flutter of actively in my stomach, and it’s suddenly hard to catch my breath. His soft brown eyes are on mine. We’re so close that his breath tickles my cheek. Then he leans in and brushes my lips with his, sending tingles over my skin, creating a deep ache in my chest when he pulls away.

I find my voice now, even if it’s a little shaky. “I’m glad you did.”

Sam smiles, and he leans in and kisses me again. This time the kiss is deeper, firmer. His mouth is hot on mine, and I run my fingers through his dark curls, losing myself to the sensation.

When I start to get up later he begs me to stay, asks if we can spend the day together. I know I should be concentrating on trying to contact my parents, but it’s almost impossible to resist him. I don’t know if I want to.

We spend the day together picking out shapes in the clouds, lying in the cool grass, dipping our toes in the river. I haven’t been this happy in weeks. Even while I was alive.

Later we watch the sun sink down behind the sky line. I lay my head on his shoulder and his arm is around my waist. We sleep close together that night, in the grass beneath the weeping willow, his chest pressed to my back and his arm curled around me, his breathing gentle and deep behind me.

As long as I am with him, and thinking of nothing but Sam I can’t think of death and darkness, I can’t picture my dead body again and again, replaying it like a movie in my head.

And that suits me just fine.

The next day Nakia goes out. She tells Caleb she’s going to the mall, and he looks at her suspiciously, but doesn’t say anything other then,

“Fine, but we need to clean this place up at some point.”

“I’ll do it when I get back,” Nakia shrugs into her jacket and hurries out as fast as she can, the screen door banging shut behind her. I follow Caleb into the living room, where he slouches down onto the couch. He jumps at something, reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Yeah? Oh hey, what’s up, bro?”

There’s a pause while the person on the other end replies, and I drift closer to try to eavesdrop. Caleb grins. “Yeah, how’d it go? I could use a new DVD player. Someone tried to shove a piece of pizza in there at the party.”

            Laughter from the other end, and I recognize the obnoxious sound. It’s Larry. More talking, and then Caleb says, “Wow, man. Sounds like a good haul.”

            Good haul? My scowl deepens. They're discussing a robbery like it's nothing. Just a laugh to them!

“No problems?” Caleb says. And then, “Yeah, that’s good. A lot less messy. That’s why I got the key to Bree’s house.”

My name on his lips sends a little shock through me, and not in a good way. He hasn’t said my name since the night of my murder, just referring to me as “she” or “her” or even “the body” once or twice.  I thought that had made me mad, but it turns out this is worse. I don’t want him to say my name. I don’t want him claiming any part of me.

He’s still talking, “Yeah, their alarm system is wicked. I’ve seen it. Shouldn’t be a problem though.”

A deep murmur on the other end, and Caleb says, “Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on with that now. Her parents are probably going to cancel their trip, since she’s missing. Although...” Here he chuckles. “Maybe not. They pretty much never saw her anyways. Shitty parents, right?”

My hands curl into fists at my sides. If only I could punch him. I’d beat his pretty little face to a pulp. Caleb says, “No, the job isn’t off, not completely. I’ll get Nakia to keep in touch with them, you know, she can pretend to be all hung up on Bree and go over there all the time and hang out with her parents.” He laughs again. “Like a stand in daughter or some shit. She can case the joint and find out when they plan on going somewhere.”

I can’t believe it! He’s still planning to rob me! Rage washes through me, sudden and hot, and I lash out without thinking. Screaming, I whip around and kick the wall. My foot doesn’t go through this time. The toe of my shoe bounces off the wall, and a hollow thunk reverberates through the room. Caleb glances up from his conversation. “Hold on, Larry. Just a sec.” He stands up, leaning to one side, trying see down the hallway, “Nakia? Is that you?”

Shock paralyzes me. He heard me! After a moment I reach out one shaking hand and try to brush my fingertips along the wall, but my hand slips right through it, and I pull back like I’ve been burned. What the hell? Why doesn’t it work anymore? Frustrated, I aim a kick at the wall. My shoe vanishes inside, up to my ankle and I draw back, shivering in disgust. I’ll never get used to that.

            Caleb walks into the hall, sees its empty and shrugs. He returns to his conversation. “Nah, must have been the house settling or something. Weird. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow night. Bring your money, since I’m gonna win it all off you.” He laughs. “Yeah, okay. Bye.”

            So those pigs are coming over tomorrow night, most likely to play poker and drink. They’ll come, bringing their foul cigar smoke and raucous laughter, their racist jokes and disgusting habits. It will be a long night, but I'll stick it out. I might learn something I can use against them.

 I didn’t get an invitation, but I’ll be there too. Watching.

Thanks for reading! Shoot Me Down is in the Watty Awards, so please vote or comment if you have a minute! =)