Haunted

"Jackson, what are you doing here?" I rubbed my eyes as I opened the front door to my ex-boyfriend. He looked angry, but I was too tired to care. It was hard breaking up with him, but I couldn't keep hiding bruises he left on me.

Jackson pushed past me, rushing into my bedroom while muttering, "I came to speak to you." I followed him to my room after closing the front door. He closed the door when I entered the room and stood in front of it, arms crossed over his chest.

"Alright, what is it?" I sat on my bed and brought my knees to my chest, shivering. Jackson didn't move; he just stood there. He was stiff, angry and stiff. He was obviously upset about the break up, but I was too. Didn't he even care?

"Why?" was all he said after a moment's silence. My eyebrows furrowed.

"Why what?" I rested my chin on my knees, trying to keep myself awake. I'll never fall asleep around Jackson again. Once when he was talking to me, I fell asleep and he slapped me awake. I'll never forget the way he looked at me either.

"Why did you end us, Sonny? We were happy together. We had our problems, but everyone has their problems."

"You were hitting me, Jackson," I mumbled as I played with a strand of my hair. Jackson sighed heavily. I could hear his footsteps getting closer to me. My heart beat raced, but I tried to keep my composure. I am not afraid, I kept repeating in my head.

"I was what?" Jackson's hands were on either side of my waist, his face inches from mine. This would be the perfect moment if he weren't angry and hadn't hit me before. I couldn't help myself though; I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped into his embrace. He was reluctant at first, but he gave in slowly. His arms wrapped around me; his lips left kisses on my cheeks. It was like before times got bad, before he started hitting me.

"I'm sorry, Jackson," I whispered into his chest as he held me like that. Jackson chuckled.

"No need to be sorry, Sonny. We all make mistakes."

I looked up at him, smiling. He smiled back, but my smile soon faded when Jackson's hands wrapped tightly around my neck. He gripped my neck tightly, squeezing with every second that passed. I gripped at his hands, trying to pull them from my neck as I struggled to breath. I was feeling lightheaded as I gasped for air that I couldn't get.

I choked when Jackson's grip tightened as he lifted me above his head. I kept trying to pry his hands from neck, but I was getting weaker and weaker. I started seeing black spots. I held my hand on his arm, giving up. I didn't have the strength or the life. I was dying; this was it.

I suddenly dropped to the bed; my neck was free from Jackson's grip. I felt arms under me, lifting me and cradling my limp body. I was breathing; I could tell that much. But I was still not sure what was going on. I closed my eyes, trying to regain vision. When I opened them again, everything was blurry. Jackson was above me, saying something muffled.

"What?" My voice was raspy, but I was alive.

Jackson's lips moved again. The only thing I understand was "I'm sorry, Sonny. I love you." I looked at Jackson's hand where he was gripping a sharp object. I didn't realize what it was until Jackson punctured my thigh with the object. I screamed, trying to crawl away from him. He was going to kill me.

I struggled, but I managed to start moving back to my bedroom. It was so close, yet so far. It didn't help that I was still seeing everything in a blur. I heard Jackson coming after me. He gripped me by the hair and pulled me back. I trying to pry his hand away, but it wasn't moving. A sharp pain shot through my thigh again. I was flipped onto my back; Jackson stood above me. I pleaded for him to stop, but he brought the object down. I gasped when it punctured through my torso. Jackson removed the object and stabbed it higher in my body: my chest, hitting my heart. I gasped and fell limp. Black spots covered my vision; my life was drifting away. The only thing I could make out was the silhouette of Jackson over my lifeless body.

Death was easy. All I had to do was lie in my own bloody puddle and drift in it toward a white light. The light was pretty, fascinating. I had encountered nothing like it before. I closed my eyes, breathing again. The pain I had just encountered was gone. I opened my eyes to a garden. Something hard was under my back; I sat up. It was a wooden boat. No driver was leading the boat; it just followed the way the river flowed. I lied back and let my boat take me to my destination.