Introduction:
She is the girl who no one knows. The girl that smiles through her pain-filled eyes. She looks happy, but is she? Yet, who is she? No one knows her. No one does, but me. I'm her friend. I've been for over five years. I know who she is. She is my friend. I sit by her everyday, but still no one notice her. I do. People look at me because they think I'm talking to myself, but I'm not.
"Why do they look at you wierdly?" She asked.
"I don't know maybe, because they don't have a friend as good as you." I said laughing. We both smiled.
"Do they know?" She asked concerned.
"What do you mean? Know what?" Now I sounded concerned.
Her eyes turned to pain. A pain deeper than the ocean, darker than Hell itself. She seemed frightened. Scared, like a child with tears bout to race down her face. She turned pail, she turned white like a ghost. What was she hiding?
She turned and said with a since of pain in her voice, "I... I'm sorry I thought you knew."
I watched as she lifted her sleeve. There inbedded in her arm was terrifying. My face turned white as she showed me her arm. There on her arm... Was... Was a cut on her forearm. It stretched from her wrist to her elbow. And the knife that layed there, untouched by the living. Only touched by my friend. My friend who has been dead since the middle of summer. My friend for five years. Or less. I cryed, I wept. I was afraid. What am I? Who Am I? Who am I....
* * * *
That night I didn't feel to well, so I went to bed early that night. As I walked into my room, there she stood. She was pale. She was dead. My face turned white, my eyes filled with pain, and my heart sank deep into my chest.
"Why?" I asked, "Why me are you doing this to me?“
"It's not my fault that yu can see the dead." She proclaimed.
