Dying. Dead. Vanished.

There is this girl. She tall and skinny. So skinny that her bones stick out. Her skin is rotten and is the colour of snow. She has wet, tangled hair. Her hair goes to her knees and is jet black. Her eyes are like stone. They are pitch black. Sometimes her eyes are green. She wears a blood-stained nightgown. She doesn't wear any shoes. No one else can see her. She hides under my bed. She follows me everywhere I go. She visits me in my dreams or nightmares as I should call it. She haunts me. I call her Crystal because in the sun her skin shines.