Save Me

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I tried focusing my vision on the motorway heading straight out of Truro, westbound towards the Atlantic. I drove out of the city and into the green foothills that blanketed over the horizon, where there existed nothing but quiet farmlands. It was late in the day and the roads were nearly empty leading out of Truro, the sky turning a darker shade, and the colours of the countryside becoming shrouded in night.

But still, something caught my attention, a shadow in the corner of my eye, something moving. I pulled my car over at the first opportunity, and then it happened.

From behind the car seat, a hand came round and pulled my hair backwards, my head hitting the seat. Another hand wrapped around my neck, their fingers tightening around my throat. I tried to pry them off, but I was taken off guard.

"Gotcha!" a voice exclaimed, a laugh coming from behind me. "It's just me, Buttercup." Darby jumped from the back of the car and into the seat beside me.

I dove backwards in reaction, grabbing the door-handle without a second thought, falling out of the car and onto the road.

"Did you really think you'd seen the last of me?" he asked. He was wearing a hospital gown, his toffee-brown hair sticking up at the ends. He was still pale too, maybe even paler than before.

"But... you're dead!" I said, scrambling up off the floor.

"Check again, you prick. I'm not so easy to get rid of," he laughed.

"That's it. I'm done with seeing ghosts. I'm fucking sick of it!" I screamed.

"Ghost?" he asked, nipping himself on the arm. "I guess I must be. Yep, I'm dead, lost, gone, haunting you from beyond the beyond. So, tell me, how did it happen?"

"No!" I told him. "You don't get to haunt me! You overdosed, you fucking killed yourself! I've got nothing to feel guilty about, so you can't be real. You just can't be."

"Guilty? What are you feeling guilty about now?"

"Tom, and Luke, and now you! Why can't you just stay dead? Why can't I just be left alone?"

"I overdosed?" he asked back. "Oh yeah, I remember that. But I'm not dead, you idiot. I woke up about a half hour ago."

"You what?" I asked, confused at first, but then it sunk in. He wasn't dead at all, he was just a fucking lunatic.

"I woke up and took off the first chance I got. I wasn't gonna let them lock me back up. You really thought I was dead, didn't you?" he laughed.

"Your hospital bed was empty, and I thought-"

"-that I was in the morgue? That I'd dropped dead from a teensy-weensy overdose? Puh-lease, Isaac. I am a professional, you know. Now get in the car, you're shivering."

"I'm not cold, I'm fucking traumatised! You just tried to strangle me! You scared the fucking shit out of me, Darby. I can't believe you."

"It was all part of the master plan! Mission Faggot Escape: Phase 2!"

"Shut your gob, or I swear I'll deck you. What were you thinking, overdosing like that? You nearly died!"

"And you were on the verge of tears, don't deny it," he said.

"So it was for attention? 'Cos you certainly had mine."