POV you're in AHS 1984

Ghosts

I wake up to a muffled voice talking to me, but I can't quite make it out into words. I open my eyes and see a figure of a person above me.

"You're awake." The voice says.

I feel my body regain strength. I sit up and look to my right. Xavier is holding me in bed with his shirt off, and he has no burns on him.

"Hi, my sweet girl." He says, pushing my hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear.

"X, where are we? What happened?" I ask, extremely confused, looking around the cabin we're in.

"Well, we're still stuck at Camp Redwood. What's the last thing you remember?" He asks.

"Um, you shot Jingles and killed him. Then we kissed. I don't remember anything after that."

"You died, Theodora." Xavier continues.

"I what?" I ask, tilting my head.

"I died too. We're stuck here."

Confusion settles over my face.

"After I shot Jingles, we were kissing; you know how much I love kissing you." He teases, smiling at me.

"When you fell limp, and I caught you. Margaret was standing right behind you as I fell to the ground screaming, holding you in my arms while your stomach bled out. She was holding the kitchen knife that was in my pocket, which was covered in blood. Margaret had stabbed you in the back, straight through your body and into your stomach. I cried holding you when she jumped on top of me, pinning me to the ground, and stabbed me in the chest. I woke up where our bodies were, picked you up, and brought you here. All of your injuries are gone, along with mine."

"That fucking bitch. Where is Montana? Where is everyone else? Did they escape?"

"Brooke killed Montana."

"What?"

"Ya, she's in the other cabin with Ray and Chet. The only survivors are Margaret, Brooke, Rita, Trevor, and the two serial killers." Xavier continues.

"Trevor's still alive?"

"I guess so." 

Xavier kisses me and lays my head on his bare chest, brushing his fingers through my hair.

"Why are we stuck here?" I ask as I rub my fingers on his chest.

"I don't know. That we can't figure out. But for right now, we are finally alone and safe."

Montana and I lay on the dock together, soaking up the sun with our sunglasses on, listening to the radio. Montana sits up and nudges me on my side. 

"What?" I ask dramatically.

I sit up to see what she wants. I look over and see a man with orange hair. He's holding a camera, staring at Montana and me nervously like he interrupted something. She turns and gives me a smirk.

"Take a picture, It'll last longer." She flirts as we lean on each other, posing.

He chuckles nervously, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Relax, She's just teasing." I smile, pulling down my dark sunglasses. "You another one of those true-crime tourists?"

"Oh, God, no. I'm here for the waterfowl. This lake is a rest stop on the Pacific Flyway. Ducks migrate from as far as Patagonia." He explains as he walks down the dock towards us.