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You Again?

I open my eyes to the blackness. Don't ask me how I know it's evening, but I do.

Stretching in a casket is worse than being undead. There's no room. I settle for a yawn that sends shivers down my spine and begin the process of crawling to the surface.

The breeze is cool against my skin, and I breathe the air into my lungs. I've always loved fall nights.

"Ahem. Nice evening, ain't it?" The voice startles me. I'm not exactly used to visitors.

I spin around to find Mr. Conley perched on a bench near my plot. "It is," I reply. My eyes narrow. "What're you doing here?" My mother would have slapped me for forgetting my manners.

Mr. Conley stands, and gives me a measured look. "I had to make sure I wasn't dreaming last night."

"Not a dream. I'm here. In the flesh." I can tell my words have made him uncomfortable, so I soften my tone and repeat the words I told him last night. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know that. It's just so..." His words trail.

"Weird?" I offer. He nods.

"Yes. Are you the only one? That can, you know. Come back?"

I laugh, but it comes out bitter. "As far as I know. We're not throwing undead parties here. Michael Jackson isn't providing choreography." I don't tell him about the symbol etched in my headstone.

Mr. Conley doesn't smile. "So why you?"

I shrug. "I don't know the answer to that. I just...woke up."

"Do you remember how you..."

"How I died?" I finish for him. He nods again. "Not a clue. I've been trying to figure that out myself."

Mr. Conley's eyes widen. "You haven't figured anything out?"

I shake my head. "Not exactly like I can ask anyone. Do you know how I died?"

He bites his lip and avoids my eyes. "I...uh...yeah, I know."

"Tell me. Please." I come over to the bench and take a seat next to him, hyper-aware of how he scoots over so as not to touch me.

"Eden, I don't know. Are you sure you want to hear this?"

I turn the question over in my mind. Am I sure? Part of my screams yes, but there's a voice that whispers in the back of my head that's telling me no. I sigh. "Yes. Tell me."

"Eden. You, uh, you..." He clasps his hands together and wrings them like a dishrag. "You killed yourself."