Finding My Killer

"SCARLETT MIRANDA ROSE." The tombstone read. "FELL OUT OF WINDOW. AGE 16. SHE WILL BE IN OUR HEARTS FOREVER."

I venomously laugh as I read my tombstone. My name is Scarlett Miranda Rose, and I know
one thing for sure.

I didn't fall out of that window.

I was pushed.



*Cover created by: SAISXO

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1. Chapter 1

I envy them. They talk to people. They get to be noticed. I wish people would talk to me. I wish they noticed me. But, of course that would be hard, because I'm dead.

I'm not joking. I've been dead for about 3 months now, well, I guess the 'technical term' would be ghost. No one can see me, no one can hear me, I can pretty much do what ever I want.

I watch the people in my town go by. The 'popular' crowd push people out of their way. Samantha Burkheart, a girl I go to school with, sorry went to school with, playfully glares at the boy who keeps running around her, grabbing at her blonde pigtails.

I just love walking around the school campus in the afternoon, seeing familiar faces of the people who came to my funeral, but didn't actually care.

"Hey Sam!" I yell from across the street.

Nothing.

I run over there and knock on her head. "Yoo-hoo! Anyone home?" I glared at her.

"God, it's freezing over here!" She exclaims rubbing her arms.

"That's because I'm near you," I scowl. That's what happens when a ghost is around you, the temperature immediatly drops thirty degrees.

I roll my eyes. "Whatever," I mumble and start walking down the sidewalk away from the prison, excuse me, high school.

I had just started my 10th year, I made alot of friends, had "decent" grades, everything. What I didn't know I had, was an enemy.

 

 

I see the familiar gates of the cemetery and gaze out at all of the tombstones. I find mine and simply pass through the metal bars, walking over to my grave.

My tombstone is decorated with my favorite exotic flowers. Two white, vanilla scented candles with the wicks burned down to the nub. My picture in its cherry wood picture frame, with dust settling over it.

I kneel down and gently trace my fingers around the words.

"SCARLETT MIRANDA ROSE." The tombstone read. "FELL OUT OF WINDOW. AGE 16. SHE WILL BE IN OUR HEARTS FOREVER."

I venomously laugh as I read my tombstone. My name is Scarlett Miranda Rose, and I know one thing for sure.

I didn't fall out of that window.

I was pushed.

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