Auvrea takes me aside and asks me what it is I want to know. Where to start?!
‘I don’t know where to start,’ I admit. ‘Just everything. Why have I come back as this? What am I even here for? Is there some purpose to this, or is this as futile as life the first time around was? Does this mean there is a god, or what? How... immune are we to the... people on this bus, too? I mean, what if vampire guy over there decided to bite me... I wouldn’t then turn into a vampire would I?’ the questions tumble out of my mouth.
I look into Auvrea’s eyes pleadingly. ‘Help me! I’ve been dead for four weeks. I had to watch my own funeral. It won’t stop haunting me! I can’t make up my mind if I miss life or not. Just... ARGH!’ I yell, tailing off in a shout of frustration. I bend over, my head in my hands, crying again. I feel a hand rest on my shoulder comfortingly. I don’t know whose it is, I don’t look up.