Haunted

Chapter 1

"Run, Alissa!" The voice of Eric made my heart skip a beat. "How is this possible? You're dead!" I screamed towards him. "Nothing really stays dead." Eric said with a disturbing smirk. His face sort of melted till there was only a black hole. His blond hair darkened and the only thing left was the smirk. My heart was beating so clear, that I could hear it myself. Those words still haunts me. Eric still haunts me.

Three years later
I woke up half paralyzed. I've never gotten used to the dream, even though I've had it for three years now. Tomorrow is the day Eric died, only he died three years ago. I finally got out of bed after crying for half an hour. I looked in the mirror and saw my eyes slowly turning red. When I picture myself, I always see myself crying. I'm suffering from trauma, anxiety and severe depression.

I opened my locker that I got from Eric. It was heart shaped, and inside of it was a folded picture that Eric took of me. I looked so happy in it. My blond hair was curly and I was laughing. I remembered that day like it was yesterday. Now my hair is in a messy ponytail and it is as black as charcoal. I figured that I needed a change so I wouldn't be reminded of Eric every time I looked in the mirror.

I've always wanted dark hair. Not as black as now but maybe a dark brown with some blonde highlights. My golden eyes were puffy and red and my skin was very pale. What I see in that dark framed mirror is unfortunately how I look all the time.

I've never really had makeup on or a pretty dress since the night of his death. I was there when he died. I still blame myself for his death. "Alissa!" I could hear my mother's voice calling for me, but I decided to ignore her. Alissa, you have to get ready for the memorial!" She yelled at me and she probably figured that I ignored her.

I put on a black blouse that covered my knees, because it was five sizes bigger. I didn't wear any makeup. I removed the rubber band from my hair and felt my ponytail slowly fall apart. I grabbed a bouquet with white roses and walked out.

My mother stared at me with the ugliest look ever. She was clearly very disgusted. "Ali? What are you wearing? Is that grandma's blouse?" She said with that one disgusted expression the whole time. "I don't have to dress up for him. He is dead, remember?" I meant what I said. "Alissa Joanne Taylor! That is not how you speak of the dead!" She said.

She always overreacts about such things, probably because of her brother's death. I could feel something cold and wet on my pale cheeks. It was tears coming from my eyes, but I wiped them away as quickly as I could. Unfortunately she noticed them. "Let's just go to that memorial, huh? No one really cares about how we look." She said trying to comfort me.

When we arrived I could feel the hairs on my neck rise and goosebumps forming on my soft and pale skin. It was Eric's parents' stare. I could feel the hatred through their fake smiles. Even through Mrs. Jordan's botax and layers of makeup. There was just something about them that took my breath away by every single look.

"Hello Miss. Taylor! How are you doing?" Mr. Jordan said with a big smile. I'm not even sure that you can call that a smile. He was talking to my mother, since my father killed himself when I was only eleven years old. "I'm doing just fine." My mother didn't really like them either.

"Alissa, what are you wearing? You look like you got hit by a truck." Mrs. Jordan said while her and her pig of a husband giggled. I could feel the anger boiling over and I said something I instantly regretted afterwards. "At least I don't need botax to look half decent." You could see the annoyance in her face.

"Excuse me?" She looked like she had diarrhea, but I think she got mad. "I'm sorry about my daughter. She is just very emotional." My mother said looking at me like she wanted to strangle me. "Keep control of your daughter. She already murdered my son, I don't want the same thing happening to me!" She said.