Short Stories

When I died..

When I was stabbed by my brother out of jealousy, I wasn't sent to heaven. Not hell, either. 

TW: blood, mentioned depression and eating disorder

Evelyn - 16 years old (ghost/imaginary friend)

Aria - 6 years old (over a span of 9 years tho)

Enjoy! 

"See you in the afterlife." The person in front of me snarled. I looked up sadly at my brother's face as he raised the knife in his hand.

"Is it really worth it? All the destruction? All the hate?" I asked, almost begging. "Every moment." He snarled and at long last, stabbed down into my chest. I looked down and barely managed to glance at dots of blood staining my pristine white shirt from around the blade. But he didn't leave it there, no. He pulled it out and stabbed down again. I could feel the warm and slightly sticky gush of blood flowing out of the wound as my brother just looked down at me, a face of triumph. I studied his face, struggling to breathe.

I closed my eyes and sighed. There was no point in struggling. The pain was intense, but so was the growing peace. I finally felt... free. Years and years of stress and pain put upon me was... gone. All gone.

And if this was dying, it wasn't too bad. The original pain was slowly fading after a moment more. I could breathe again. I opened my eyes, narrowing them against the light. It wasn't what I had expected. I had expected the gateway of Heaven and Hell, but, instead, I was in a room. A child's playroom. A small girl was sitting in a corner, playing with a teddy bear.

"Uh," I cleared my throat. The little girl turned to me. "Oh, hello! Come join my tea party!" She said happily, beckoning me over. I looked at my body. It was completely free of scars, free of the pain. When I moved, my body shimmered as if it was made of water, yet it was as solid as a normal body. Like a mirage.

"Come on!" The girl's little voice cut into my thoughts. I looked over. She had set out small tea cups and saucers, as well as a small jug of milk. I cautiously walked over and reached out to take the cup. To my surprise, it lifted. It was filled to the brim with milk and I took a small sip. I hadn't expected it to work, but I could taste it.

"How is it?" The girl asked proudly. I smiled at her. "It's great, thank you!" She giggled and took a sip as well. "So, uh, what's your name?" I asked. She looked up at me. "I'm Aria! And I'm 6 years old!" She exclaimed happily. "What about you?" I bit my lip. Do I give her my own name? There's no harm, right? She was tilting her head at me and waiting for an answer, so I gave it. "I'm Evelyn, but you can call me Eve. Nice to meet you, Aria," I smiled down at the small figure.

"No, no. You have to introduce yourself like this. "I'm 'your name', and I'm 'how old you are'. Then you can say what I can call you and lastly, nice to meet you." I laughed at her bossy attitude. "Yes, ma'am. I'm Evelyn, and I'm 16. You can call me Eve. Nice to meet you, Aria!" Aria seemed satisfied and nodded. "That's better. Nice to meet you too, Eve!" I laughed again. Being with Aria, even for the shortest amount of time, gave me a sense of security and friendship I never had.

We talked about Aria's friends in kindergarten, as well as her family. I learnt that she was from a really happy and well-done family. Her mother was a doctor and father a lawyer. They were rarely home, but they'd ensure to spend every Saturday with Aria and bring her to nice places. What a happy family. Unlike mine. My parents, well... they went to jail when I was the age of 3 and my brother was at the age of 7. We got sent to an orphanage and were adopted a year later, just a day before my brother's birthday.

However, the couple that adopted us didn't like my brother. They spoiled me to no end, and just left my brother to his own stuff. That caused him to be incredibly jealous of me. I had no idea about it. He started planning his revenge. Not only did he spread rumours and caused everyone in school to hate me, but he also often hit me. When I was 16 and he was 20, he murdered me. So much for being a brother.