The last time I saw her, she was with a girl who didn't exist.
I was in my bed, and there she was. Watching me.
Or was she there? I don't remember. It doesn't matter anyway, it's not like I can go back in time and save her.
Now that I think about it, she wasn't there. It wasn't her. It couldn't have been, right? She had been gone for seven years, it couldn't have been her.
How long has she been gone now? Twenty three years. No, twenty four. July 4th. Sound familiar? I thought so.
This is the story of how she died.
This is the story of how she came back.