The lonely graves.

Chapter 8: The reality beyond the truth.

Blood began to drip from baseball bat I had just used to bash her head.

It was also sliding down from the walls, making tiny streams and at the end of the wall, laid a pool of blood the size of my foot.

I just stood there, confused. "What did I just do?" I asked myself. Then slowly fear began to creep in as I realized that I had just murdered Amna. That I had just killed a human being. That I had just ended a human life and that made me panic and I tried to run away from it but I tripped over the pool of blood and fell right next to Amnas dead body.

I Just laid there, dazed. For a second I almost forgot what I had just done but I was reminded by her blood soaking  through the back of my T-shirt and neck.

I thought I was going to jump up, try to run away from... this but instead, I just stood up and stared at her disfigured head, feeling disgusted with myself.

I started shaking and sweating all over. It was as if my body had a mind of it's own. To gather my thoughts I went to a dark corner of my room and sat there, thinking. Tears came rolling down my cheeks. I felt...scared.

I had just ended someone's life! I killed Amna. I felt like a black stain on a wedding dress. Just then.... a thought came to mind. A  thought that I never thought that I'd have. "What if I hid the body?" 

If I do that then...  I never thought that I'd be capable of murder but now I know I am. The real question is, am I capable of doing what is necessary after  the murder?

I looked towards the body with tears pouring out of my eyes, "I'm sorry"  I whispered quietly, so quietly that it only reached my ears. The area where she was laid was now completely covered in blood. Then I realized, her blood was leaking through the floor boards.

I jumped up and ran down the stairs towards the dining room which was right under my room and sure enough, the ceiling was dripping blood, slowly but dripping.

The blood was dripping on the dining table. Right on the bowl of freshly bought fruits. Giving the green apples a new coat of red.

Then I noticed something strange, something that made me blink twice and doubt my own sanity. The blood wasn't dripping from the ceiling, it was dripping back at it!

What was happening right now seemed... impossible. Maybe it was. I had to confirm it. I moved closer to the dining table, close enough to reach out and touch the blood.

I reached out my shaking hand and with my sweat covered fingers I touched the tiny red droplet in midair and it effortlessly bounced off like a jelly fish in the ocean. It even divided itself from my sweat.

Then came a scratching sound.... like someone was carving on the floor boards on top of me... but it sounded like nails.. was there someone else in my room?

I ran up the with shaky legs, tripping halfway up, twice. By the time I reached my bedroom door I was drenched in sweat, from the head to the toe. It was not because I had just ran up the stairs, twice. It was because of fear.

I held the door knob with my trembling hand, squeezing it hard to stop myself from shaking. It didn't work. Instead it made my fingers hurt. I gathered my courage and pushed open the door.

And what I saw did not make me doubt my sanity, instead, it confirmed that I had lost it.

It was Amna, standing on the tip of her toes, legs twisted unnaturally towards the inside. She seemed to be struggling to stand straight and whenever it seemed like she was about to fall, she shifted her weight  from her toes to her heels and after getting steady she'd go back to her toes.