This is one of my first novels I have written. I really enjoyed writing it and am looking forward...
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I stand at the edge of the cliff, peering down below. Out of all of the things here, this place always appears before me the easiest. Below me, I am watching Sam walk home from school. I miss walking home with him. I miss my brother.
Then, I see some boys walking behind him. One of them is Luke, a boy who thought it would be funny to lift up my skirt in the middle of class when we were both kindergarteners. The rest of the boys I recognize from my neighborhood, but they all had seemed like idiots to me so I did not bother to learn their names when I was on Earth. But somehow I know that one of the boy’s names is Patrick, and the scrawny looking one is Victor.
My hands clench into fists as I watch Luke knock Sam off of his feet.
“Come on, Sam,” I whisper, urging him on, “Defend yourself.”
I cannot help but gasp when I see Luke bring a knife to Sam’s throat. If he had made the tiniest cut against my baby brother’s skin, I would do anything to get revenge.
But how could I get revenge? I was not even on Earth.
“I know what you are thinking. Take my advice: Whatever you do, do not do it.” Raven appears behind me.
“They are hurting my brother! They are hurting Sam!” I cry.
“Those who jump, they do not normally come back. Once you go, it is nearly impossible to find peace, and if you cannot find peace, you cannot return. Earth can be such a horrid place. Do not get stuck there, wandering in the In Between for eternity. Stay here, one day your brother will be here too.”
I watch as Luke runs the knife down Sam’s face and I cannot stand the fact that I am watching helplessly from above.
“How can I have peace if my brother gets hurt?” I cry, and without waiting for a response, I jump.
I am falling, head first, down and down towards the Earth below. I can no longer see my brother, as I speed closer and closer the ground blurs together. I do not get that butterfly feeling that I used to get when I rode down really steep hills on roller coasters, however I seem to be falling gracefully, as if I am a bird swooping down from the mighty treetops.
I begin to lose control and do a somersault in the air. And then another. Yet I do not feel sick, I guess spirits cannot become queasy. Then I regain control and continue to fall, my arms out in front of me as if I am flying.
By now I am falling at such a great speed that I start to realize that I might die when I hit the ground. But spirits are already dead, I remember, and I hope that the impact does not hurt a great deal. The air is rushing quickly around me, and I cannot help but squeeze my eyes shut.
I am falling.
I land gently on cement, as if I was slowly set down instead of falling from a great height. It is dark, and I realize that I am in somebody’s basement. I look at the roof above me and I see no hole where I fell through. The basement has an eerie familiarity, as if I had been here before.
I stand up, brushing off the dust that blankets the floor. Spider webs decorate the walls as if no one had bothered to clean this place in a very long time.
I come across a light, which is shining from underneath a door. The light shines over a long staircase which leads to the top. The stair creaks loudly as I set my foot on it. Slowly, I climb them, one by one, until I am facing the door, but when I reach for the knob, I realize that I am locked down here.
But I am not alone. I hear a young boy softly crying.
“Hello?” I call out, “Who’s there?”
No answer. The quiet crying does not cease.
I return into the darkness down below.
“Hello?” I call out again, this time more timidly.
I see a shadow of a small boy, hugging his knees. He, too, looks familiar, and I am sure that I would know him if I could just see his face.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
The boy slowly turns around, revealing a blackened face. Blackened from burning. He raises one of his burned arms and points at me.
“I loved my murderer. I loved my murderer.” He repeats, over and over, staring at me with sad eyes.
I hear a loud creaking noise, the sound of door opening, and then a footstep. And then another. A series of footsteps make their way down the stairs with a very slow rhythm.
The boy’s voice turns shriller, and now he is shrieking those four words.
“I loved my murderer.”
A dark silhouette faces me, hidden by the shadows. The boy goes quiet and I watch him crumble into ashes.
I stare at the dark figure, my legs feeling like large blocks of lead. I want to say something, but when I try to talk no words leave my mouth.
The figure gestures towards where the boy once stood. On top of the ashes, there is a body lying face down.
I drag my feet towards the corpse, but they grow heavier and heavier with each step. Finally, I kneel down and turn the body over.
I stare down at myself, my body. I look at my face, pale and cool to the touch. My eyes are gouged out, and blood streams down from where they once were like tear tracks.
“Once the life left them, there was no use for them.” I can feel my murder’s breath against the back of my neck.
I begin to scream.