A STORY

She looked at the knife on the table like she was looking from outside. Then she realised that she actually was looking from outside. He was crying into his hands. Her lifeless body was folded across the chair. Her favorite zara top slashed where he cut when he attacked.

He didn't mean to.

Even as she looked at her own lifeless body, she felt sympathy for him. He was only acting out of anger. He loved her. He didn't mean to.

She moved closer as he moved closer, wishing he could reverse time. He whispered her name- she thought shouting would be a better way to get to her, but maybe that was just her- she was getting bored with the scene. She missed him already. Then she missed her body because apparently ghosts couldn't cry.

Was she even a ghost?

She sat on the arm of the chair. She still seemed able to sit- certainly not what the movies made you believe.

She wondered for the first time what she was still doing next to her body. Surely she should be moving quickly up or down. What's it going to be God...am I burning or becoming an angel?

He would never hold her again...She felt sad just looking at him. She loved him so much.

She looked at her body. He was looking for bin bags to wrap her in. Noone was going to find out. There was no way he was going to get away with killing her. Even by mistake.

Or was he?

He killed her. She had been looking but not really seeing.

HE. KILLED. HER.

And it didn't matter if he meant to do it or not. she was STILL dead.

She panicked. 'I hate you'

In that moment, he saw her and screamed. The look of terror on his face gave her as much satisfaction as you could feel when you were watching you get stuffed into a cheap bin bag.

He would never forget.

Then again. She would never live.

She started to fade from the scene.

Oh no..what now?

THE END.