Killer Mind

Beaten, Killed, Haunt

I ran and ran, feet pounding the sweating dirt. Tears developing from my hairline and rolling down my teardrop face. My brown, almost pink eyes showing the frequent fear. My white hair flowing behind me. The cuts on my arms he gave me dripping that all too familiar crimson color.

"You can run, but you can't hide!" My step father screamed at me from the rumbling jeep, cracking his whip on the side of his car. I jumped in front of a tree so he had to swerve. I had a weird feeling he was leading me to somewhere.

"Give up already, Ash!" I didn't. Just run. And run. And run.

After a few minutes the rigid landscape turned into nothingness, just air. I looked back at the fat man with wild brown hair, over grown beard, and a look of hate. I was his punching bag, his beating machine. Have to kick someone when they are already are down, right?

As I ran, still looking, his face turned into joy and he hit the brakes. I turned around to see my foot hit nothing. Bruised and scared, I fell. I was just a blur of white and pale honey. Normal people would scream, but I'm scared of those people. So I said nothing as I fell. I heard people below scream. Horror filled the air, and that filling my lungs, reaching my broken heart. Then I wanted to scream everything. Everything that I have ever seen, done. I choked on the horrible and painful words I never said and I slowly drowned in the thoughts I never shared.

And hit the land.

It was that horrible thing called fate, all those shadows that filled my empty heart. My freedom that would fade away in ticking time. All because of the coming darkness that always pulls me closer to the shore of my very own dreams. Then the book opens and exposes my very own, dreadful, vile death.

I don't know why I just didn't stop and let him do whatever he was going to do. I don't know why I just didn't stop when I saw the cliff, everything was a big blur. One that I can't even see one detail in.

Now in that town, Saturday us called Shatterday. The place my last breath was breathed, and the place where my heart pumped its final pump of blood, stopped, was now a small grave with a willow tree above it. Everyone there knew my name, I had a little paper in my pocket that said my name. But nobody above did. The cliff that introduced my death was connected to a town. They didn't hear a thing.

And my step father didn't peep a word about it.

When my mother died, I was all alone. I didn't go to her funeral. My real father died when I was just 2, 9/11. He was one of the firefighters. And I was left with a fatherless life. Great, right?

Ben, my step father was okay at first. He was off pot and all those drugs. Or so I thought. He did have a small anger issue though. That's why there was punching bags everywhere you looked. He started drugs again, and I tried to get him to stop, but he didn't. Then all the punching bags around the house where down right done. So then I turned into the punching bag. He then blamed everything on me from then.

I don't know what event happened to make him like this, I tried to pry it out of him, it just didn't work. He just came home one day and had steam bursting out of his ears.

Being dead isn't the best. Nobody can see you, but the small children can feel you. I haunt my step father, for everything he's done. I flip over his food tray when he's watching the news, I turn off his lights, I even hide his bed sheets. I do everything I can to tell that I am here, dead and well. He will pay for everything he's done to me, an innocent girl.

As a ghost, its not much different as it would be if you were in your body. Just not in those movies. Not transparent, well, not to me anyway. I don't have those little tails that cartoon ghosts have. I can't even walk through walls! Wait, that's not completely true. If you hit at it with enough force, you can go right through it. But I don't like the trip. You do float though. About 3 centimeters off the ground. You can also see other souls, floating around, doing whatever they are doing. Its kind of weird. I saw the guy that ran his car into a tree and then fell into a lake. He didn't like he was in good shape, if that even is a shape. 

Well, at least I can kill now. Kill every last living soul, in anyway I please. I found that out by pushing Ben down the stair, sorry I'm not sorry! Now, lets go and grab some knifes, shall we?