To Kill a Spirit

Jessica's funeral was short. Good thing it was; I didn't want anybody to see the flood of tears I've been crying since this morning. I'm such an over-sensitive person. It's irritating even for me. As soon as I reached home, I decided immediately to go to sleep; I have nothing else to do.

I slammed the door of my Toyota and ran upstairs to my room.

My body crashed the bed and I closed my eyes for unconciousness to find me. Jessica...

The thought of her really bothers me and I absolutely have no idea why. It feels like I should be the one blamed for the incident that happened. Ugh. A ton of brick has once again landed on my darn stomach. And another, what is up with Jessica that night? I've never seen anyone that depressed. Drugs? Problems? It confuses me. Jess is not that kind of person. Unless...

Unconciousness flooded my thoughts.

I was walking in a dark, unfamiliar, hallway. A hospital hallway. I realized that I've been sitting at one corner for a long time now--the back of my head drenched in sweat--I struggled to stand straight up. As I was walking in the hallway with two flickering lights, I felt some thing in my right hand. It's hard and heavy.

It was a gun.

I struggled to keep moving forward. I tried to stop myself but there was something that kept me going on. It was like I was trying to kill somebody...

And there it was. At the end of the hallway, there was someone, glowing, with dark, terrorized eyes. I knew in that instant that killing her was my goal.

I am her goal, too.

She crouched in front of me, then Jessica ran forward--screaming--with a bloody knife pointed towards my heart.

My eyes popped open again.

I sobbed more than ever.