Revenge of a Dead Girl

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  Once upon a weary, dreary night, ravens sat among the treetops with a watchful eye as they overlooked the town. Not a person in sight as they have all locked their doors this Halloween night. I peered through a window to see a news broadcast of a brutal slaughtering of six teenagers in an alley downtown. Before turning away in disgust, I find myself thinking that we have real monsters for Halloween this year. As I continue to wander the empty streets, I notice a dark figure stumbling ahead of me. Slowly approaching the intoxicated figure, he became more and more familiar to me. This is one of the men who killed those teenagers. I followed him closely as if to scrutinize his every move, yet he didn't do a thing. Eventually, the deceitful man stumbled his way around a dark corner and into an alleyway, where I planned to confront him of his crimes. When I stalked around the corner, he was reclined against the brick wall smoking a cigarette. "What do you want?," he asked me in a gruff voice, but I did not respond. He screeched the question again, only to have a delayed answer. "Revenge." The word hung in the air for minutes as it processed in his drunken mind, but by the time realization flashed in his eyes it was too late. This is the man who murdered me, who now lies dead on the cold ground. This is the revenge of a dead girl.