"That doesn't make it better." Myrtle wiped her face desperately. She didn't know what to do first, she felt like she could hit someone and cry and run and hide. She wanted to know more and know less at the same time. She wanted her mummy more than ever before. She wanted to be back in her house, curled on her bed like nothing had ever happened.
"How do I die? Why do I die?" Myrtle needed to know these things, "Why do people avoid me?"