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had a sinking suspicion that both knew more than they’d let on. Henry still refused to tell me how I died, despite my not-so-subtle hints over the past few days. He continued to change the subject, and more recently, physically get up and leave the room when I started asked questions.
    And Lucas was a completely different mystery. He obviously thought I came back to earth for some sinister purpose, and the worst part is he could be right! I had been trying not to think about the stories that Henry had told me. Man comes back from the dead and brutally murders his entire family. Woman crawls out of her grave. Everything is peachy for a couple of weeks, until she goes berserk and murders everyone in the village.
    There was no way I was going to tell Henry about my weird blackouts. He assumed I was sleeping and that was fine with me.
    I was almost to Henry’s house when I realized I didn’t have a key. Crap!                            
    I knew it was a bad idea, but my house was just another few blocks past Henry’s. Mom used to keep a key hidden in one of the potted plants outside. Surely it wouldn’t hurt just to check out my old room, see what they had done with the place since I died?
    Before I could talk myself out of it, I started jogging towards home. Mom and Dad would be at work and Kayla at school. And I was under strict orders not to leave Henry’s house during the day, so this would be my only opportunity.
    I could see my house in the distance. A wave of nostalgia washed over me. I slowed to a walk and pulled the hood onto my head, just in case there was anyone around. It would be disastrous if someone recognized me.
    It was a modest house; nothing like Henry’s, but plenty of room for four people. There were so many good memories in that house. Mom and Dad worked a lot, but they made up for it on the weekends. Up until a few years before I died, we had a weekly Saturday night family night. I can’t believe I used to complain about spending Saturday nights with my family instead of my friends, I thought sadly.
    I stopped at the entrance, peering up at my room. Old room , rather. I probably shouldn’t just stand here. What if the neighbors see me? Mrs. Brewer next door was a real busy body. Who’d have ever thought that old bat would outlive me?
    Two potted plants were on each side of the doorframe. The ceramic pot had a curved lip with a small ridge on the underside. I ran my fingers along the bottom of the lip. Success! My hand connected with the key. Good old predictable Mom. I smiled.
    With the key securely in my grip, I walked quickly to the entrance on the side of the house. Phew, no cars in the driveway.
    My hands were shaking like crazy. It took three tries to unlock the door, which swung open silently. I walked into the kitchen, feeling like I was in some weird dream. Everything looked exactly as I remembered it. I was surprised to see piles of dishes in the sink. Mom would never let us get away with leaving a mess like that.
    Even though it was technically still my home, I felt like I was intruding. I decided to go see my room and then get out of there.
    I headed for the stairs. My bedroom was the first room on the right. The door was shut. I used to have posters and stickers covering the outside, but now it was bare. I guess it was too hard for them to have a constant reminder.I wonder if they’ve left if the same inside?
    You were always hearing how parents who lost children would keep the room intact, like some weird shrine. Supposedly that was unhealthy. Mom always wanted a room to do her painting , I mused. Maybe she decided to make over my room for herself.
    My hand had just connected with the doorknob when I heard it: someone was talking. I wasn’t alone in the house.
    I stood, paralyzed by fear and panic. Think! I strained to hear the voice. It was Kayla. Her bedroom was farther down the hall on the opposite side. What is she doing home from school?
    I could see