"if it makes you feel better."

Our sister's eyes fill with tears,

and I want to kill him.

"I hate you," she whispers to her twin.

"I hate you too," her twin whispers back.

I want to wake Connor,

tell him to make peace.

That's what bass players are for, right?

But he hasn't been

our bass player

since the night I died

and killed the Keeley Brothers

forever.

As the car creeps,

and Connor sleeps,

and Siobhan weeps,

Mickey . . .

Mickey exists.

Siobhan has to pee.

But the truck stop is new,

so I can't follow them.

Ghosts can only go in death

to the places they went in life,

like a hamster in a Habitrail.

Mickey puts on his blinker.

"Don't leave me."

I lunge forward,

grab for the steering wheel,

hoping

this time I'll touch something,

this time they'll hear me.

This time is like all the rest.

The car turns,

and I'm left standing in the highway.

A red Jeep,

the top down,