NOTE: This is a WIP.Edit
I was scared. How am I supposed to get out of here? I thought. But then I froze. He was following me. I started to walk at a faster pace. Then faster, faster, faster, until I was running. Sprinting. I ducked into an alley. Finally. I thought, Safe.
Then somebody put a hand over my mouth. I tried to scream, but nobody heard. It was a man. I smelled the distinct scent of Axe. They put a knife right up against my neck. I could feel the sharp, cool blade, breaking the first layer of my skin. “TALK!” they demanded. “NEVER!” I yelled back.
Bam. I died. I would never get to go to my senior prom, the night that almost every little girl dreams of at some point in her life, and I would never graduate high school or college. Never start a family with the man of my dreams. It is really depressing if you think about it. I’ve had plenty of time to think. Roaming the streets that I died on.
They found my body a day later, and as I was watching, a girl about my age looked right at me and stared. They shook their head in disbelief to see if I was still there, but I had already disappeared. I’ve always wondered if she could really see me, but I’ve never thought much of it.
You’re probably wondering why that man killed me. Let me start from the beginning...
I once heard a song before I died called “If I Die Young” by The Band Perry. ‘If I die young, bury me in satin. Lay me down on a, bed of roses. Sink me in the river, at dawn. Send me away with the words of a love song.’
I was only 15. That just goes to show, live every day to the fullest, as if it were your last. I certainly didn’t. I was so young, so clueless, so...carless.
The man that killed me, his name was Michael. He had once been in love. Deeply in love, with a girl who left him for someone else. That girl had been my mother. I know she sounds awful, but she probably didn’t mean for it to hurt him so bad.
Michael had been the best you could think of a man to his girlfriend. He had never cheated, never wanted to hurt her. Michael was hot. As in REALLY hot. A ton of girls were probably drooling all over him, but he shrugged them all off.
On the night she left him, Michael was going to prepose to her. Am I glad he’s not my dad. Well, I kind of wish he was, since I wouldn’t have died. OR WOULD I?
He just...just got mad. I was the only thing he could get to to get back at my mother. Why she left him...We may never know.
Now I want to help my parents get through the pain. Suffering. I don’t even care about Michael. You know where he’ll be going when he dies.
Now you’re wondering why I’m a ghost. I’m guessing that God wanted me to help my parents. They’re taking it harder than even me. I get it. I was their youngest child. If ghosts had tears, then I wouldn’t use many. I do miss my parents, but just seeing them makes me happy.
Ok, ok. I’m crying now. I miss them. You caught me. It’s just...I can’t imagine how they manage all of this grief...I was their life pretty much, since my older siblings are all in college or living on their own. I just abandoned them. What have I done?
I am going to my house today to try to help my parents. A walk down memory lane won’t be bad either. I promise I won’t cry. If I do, then I will just have to punish myself some how…
There it is. My old house. Where I grew up, slept, laughed, and cried myself to sleep after brutal teasing at school.
What will I do? How will I help them? Maybe I could find a white board and write something on it. But what? No, that would scare them. They’re old. So frail and weak, I don’t know what to do.
Who is that at the door? That’s weird, they’re kicking the door. Oh my goodness, he has a gun. Wait. I think I’ve seen him before. Woah. It’s Michael. What’s he after?
In The Trunk of Michael’s Van
I can’t believe it! I’m sitting in Michael’s van next to my mother, who is tied up and has a gag in her mouth. I wish I could do something, but I can’t. I’d scare her...Why does everything always happen to me? Where was Dad anyway? Maybe he was at the store. No, the car was in the driveway...Maybe he was out playing poker at his friends house? Still no. He never played poker. Why would I think that? Ummm...Let’s see...What’s the use? I’ll never find him.
~MrandMrsPeetaMellark :D 00:55, February 6, 2012 (UTC)