Short stories

Entry : Foreshadowing Death

     Sometimes I feel as if I'm stuck... I died once, and now I feel like I must die again to escape. It's a dreadful place to live in. Musty white fog surrounds the atmosphere, giving the place an unsettling feeling. Souls drift around in fog, wandering for love ones, some for vengence. Others, like me, are fully aware of what's happening. We aren't lost, nor confused, we simply want to escape. The creatures that lurk in here are evil and venemous. Some, to the human world, are simply urban legends or myths. Some,  only mere fairy tales. I used to believe so, that is until I died. My death was long and painful.

     It was on the night of Friday the 13th, how ironic... A man with no connections to my family, or so I had thought, snuck into our house late that night. I was startled awake when I heard a loud banging on my door. My sister was out partying with her friends, and my parents were sound asleep in their room. I was a curious child, always looking for an adventure to pursue. I never asked for this adventure, but it came right to my door... Literally. Anyways, he had came in and tied me to a chair in the corner of my room. He stuffed my mouth with a sock so my parents wouldn't hear my screams. He then began to murder me ever so cautiously.. Taking precise measures to make sure I died slowly and painfully. I don't remember what it felt like exactly. Now I can only remember a mere pinch of it, although I do remember it feeling like hours for the blood to drain out of my body.. I always wondered what he was thinking about when he murdered me. It turns out that he worked for my father at an construction site. He was a good worker, or so my father would say. One day I had gone with my father to help supervise the work, he stared at me the whole time. He worked on the roof, always having his hammer handy. I suppose that hammer did its job the night he murdered me. Breaking my bones, limb by limb. I'm still oblivious to a motive. There was nothing you could get out of murdering a 16 year old girl. You are only taking away a life worth of hard work and endless desperation for love. 

     So I am now stuck. My soul is wandering in this endless fog, with creatures haunting my path. They can only do me mental harm, nothing physical, or so I think that is the case. I mean, we are spirits. There is so many things that I am afraid to learn, but I know I must. Most spirits, the ones with a sense of clarity, tell me that this dimension of fog will not last forever. They actually believe we won't be stuck. I've heard the tales of many souls escaping into a wonderful life. It's like Heaven and this dimension is a glimse of hell. The only difference is the fact that I'm still on earth. When I first arrived, I figured I was waiting for my judgment from God, being a Christian as a human. I still believe in a Heaven, I have just lost my map on how to get there. We are in the Bermuda Triangle. Yes, the 'clear blue oceans' and the 'tropical weather'. It could've fooled anyone, but everyone who has dared come sailing abroad the ocean blue has mysteriously disspeared. I believe they joined this realm, or actually landed in the other dimension, if it actually does exist. Either way, I didn't understand why I had to be stuck here. Couldn't I just go to heaven? Do the most brutal of deaths have to stay in something much worse to figure themselves lucky? I was at lost for any clarity on the subject of reasoning in this place. 

     I mostly spent my days wandeing about, talking to other souls, and trying to find any clues on how to get the hell out of here. I promised myself that I would not rot in this dungeon. If souls can actually so called 'rot', that is. I am now 17, it has been a year since I died. Although it does not seem to be that long, I remember learning that time must go by faster in other universes. I let that logic do its explaining.  I felt so lonely down here, no one to actually talk to. Mona, a woman who is dying to have her baby back, always wails in the fog. She nevers shows her face, but many souls show their true colors towards the noise. Some go into the fog to try to shut her up, but none return. There are layers of the fog. It starts off as a lit mist and then proceeds to get thicker and thicker. I must be in one of the thicker layers. It's hard to see, and most of the souls I hear are farther away. I suspect they belong to the lighter areas of fog. I've came to a conclusion, after a year of thinking, that at the utmost layer of fog (where there's hardly any at all), is where the "second dimension" to this horendous world might be. 

     I know it can't be that easy to get to though, or more souls would've retired to searching for it. There must be a trick. I started off at the thickest layer and it was cold as ice. I then proceeded into the next layer and it was starting to warm up. The creatures got worse, more grotesque in their ways. Their faces would distort into something much terrible. I am always fearful that I'd die again and have to restart my journey. It was like I was in a game, instead I had no control over the outcome, or so I felt.

     This realm was like a society. Full of creatures and spirits that are not seen with the naked human eye. Nobody alive could imagine this, and even some souls, I feel, would of never guessed to have ended up here. I believe that not all souls end up here however. I think the souls that are still lost, still partly alive end up here. I ddin't want to die and I'm still lost in this world on why and how I died. I guess it's acceptance, but then again, I can never see anyone accepting their death. This world was all white and fog. It was dark too, but I knew there was light somewhere. That place I so desired to see and go to.  I longed to see home again, my parents; to live in general. The worst part was is that I died so young, and my short life flashed before my eyes, before I died. Your brain starts shutting down, making your sensory organs go hay-wire and your life is replayed. The only part it doesn't replay is your death, thankfully.

     I start walking, faster and I see the fog begin to dissipate and become whiter. Maybe I was getting closer. But that's when I heard it, the wailing. At first I thought it was mona again, crying out for whatever reason she was crying for. I would be too if I felt like I had a soul left. All I was, was a soul. But when you die you lose remorse, fear, pain, happiness. It's all just consumed you whole till you have a different emotion. One undescribable mixed with fear and confusion. I call it a sixth sense. I can hear the wail getting closer and closer, I don't know where it's coming from, but most new souls start out like this. So lost, there first instinct is to scream, to cry, to run into the endless fog. Trust me, It gets you nowhere. It wasn't Mona as I suspected, being in this new Fog, I knew she wouldn't be here. I didn't know who could be in this fog or who would be so upset. Someone who lost someone so near and dear to themselves. Like a family member. I know I would be upset if I lost someone I loved.

     Then a thought occured to me, maybe I have. Why would he stop at killing me and only me. I was not the only intended viction here. He was coming after my family with an intent that I don't know of. It was scary to think about, but my parents, my sister, my entire family could be dead. At that moment, I remember sorrow and what it felt like to want to cry, but I didn't, I couldn't cry. For it was such an overwhelming sense, that I blocked it out.

     That's when I saw the figure. Tall and skinny, looking pale and frail. She had long hair just like mine and the same colored eyes as me. We could have been twins.

     We weren't though. She was just my older sister. My heart started pounding and my vision went blurry. I couldn't see her anymore but a blurred outline of furniture.  blinked a few times and the fog was gone.

     I was in my bedroom. My old bedroom. It was relaxing and peaceful, but the atmosphere was eerie and I felt strange. I breathe through my lungs, lungs! I haven't breathed for so long. Was I dreaming? Was that a dream? A nightmare?

     But there it was, the banging. On my door I heard several bangs. Then it opened slowly, trying not wake me. He walked in, hammer in his left hand. He had a grungy appearance and a cynical grin on his face. I knew what was going to happen. My dream told me everything. My heart dreaded this, but I wanted to die. He locked the door and revealed the rope. I was too curious... I wanted to know if that world really existed. He grabbed me and tied me up. I always wated an adventure, didn't I? He gagged me and raised his hammer. I was about to find out.

The End.