Piggy's Short Stories

Story 10:

I stare at the floor, I stare at the lump on the floor. Coppery crimson stains the floor, in a puddle, infinitely flowing from the form in front of me. I move closer, the form slowly morphs into what looks like a figure, frozen. I take another agonising step forward, it's a body.

 I stand shocked, wide eyed. Something shinny catches my eye. A knife, stuck hilt deep in the figures bloody stomach. I take another step forward. I can see the face now, it looks familiar. Is this a friend? Family? I look away frantically searching my mind for answers. 

The metallic smell of blood fills my nose, making me feel sick. I slowly look back to the figures face. It looked frozen in a state of shock and pain, her eyes glassy, unseeing.

I stand transfixed on the face, its cold like marble. Her skin is coated in blood, forever stained in her hair and clothes. I wonder if she has or, had anyone in her life. Anyone to mourn her, remember her. Is she alone? Erased and forgotten from this world? Voices echo from in the darkness, breaking me from my thoughts.

 I look into the darkness towards the voices, a light comes into view along with three people. They looked panicked, looking around frantically. Searching. I try to call out, nothing. No sound but silence.

As they turn towards me, they freeze. Their eyes locked on the girl lying in her own life source. I move towards them and stand right in front of a tall boy, I open my mouth to speak. "NO!!" the boys voice echoed in my ears, full of pain and dead hope. 

 I move to the side dodging him as he ran. The others follow. Realisation dawned on me, they can't see me. They kneel around the figure, ignoring the lake of blood staining their clothes. Tears rain from their eyes, staining their cheeks.

I feel a tear run down my cheek. Why am I crying? "Come on! You can't leave me!" the tall boy screamed. He was holding the body's head, shaking it slightly. I try to speak again, still nothing, they can't hear me.

 "she's gone Jack" a girl with dark brown hair says wearily, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder. "Summers gone" said a boy with blond hair, he was holding the dead girl's cold hand. 

That name, it sounds so familiar. Suddenly memories flood my mind. My life. My family. And my friends. I am Summer. These are my friends. That is my body. I am dead. 

A/N

haha this story is um... interesting, I guess! I wrote it thinking about what ghost feel OK!? STOP JUDGING!