You had killed yourself in the murder house about 6 months ago.

You had committed suicide by overdosing on pills.

Your then boyfriend, tate had found you passed out, in the bathroom, and had tried to get you to puke up the pills, he had gotten you to puke up some, but you had taken to many, it was to late, you were gone.

Now both you and tate were ghosts of the murder house. Along with the other spirits.

But it was when you learned the things tate did before he died, the 15 kids he shot at the school shooting, how he set his stepdad on fire, the people he killed in the murder house.

You had broken up with him, and was ignoring him, you wouldn't talk wouldn't look at him, he hated it.

But that was until one night, you had just gotten really emotional, gotta home sick, you missed your mommy, you just needed to be held by someone.

So you had walked upstairs, quietly opened the door to tates room, as you sniffled wiping the droplets of tears from your eyes. Quietly walking over to takes bed were he wad sitting messing around with some of his nirvana cds.

When you walked over to him not saying a word. Climbing into his lap straddling him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face into his neck quiet sniffles continuing to leave your mouth.

Tate knew how homesick you got, how much you missed your mom, so he wrapped his arms around your waist, one of his hands playing with your hair, as his chin wrested on the top of your head "hi Zoey" he whispered.