Story of a Ghost

Quin Berlin is a sixteen year old girl living under her abusive mother who only has time for herself. Quin see's her life as one long, miserable existence plagued by the nagging voices of ghosts. Thats right. Quin Berlin can see and talk to ghosts. And to be honest, it's pretty bland. Then one day the body of a young girl is discovered in a lake not too far from her house and Quin is thrown head first into the thirty year old murder mystery of a long-missing child. Can she stop the murderer, who, according to the spirit, is still out there and killing?


1. It All Started When They Found The Body...

My black comforter stuck to my legs with cold sweat. I thrashed from side to side as images of the girl flashed before my eyes, even when they were closed. I saw her falling, her left arm reaching up towards where her killer stood on the cliff from which she had fallen, as if to say, "I know you had a good reason to kill me, but you would you please reconsider"? I laughed slightly, and then remembered that a child being thrown off of a cliff into the lake below isn't funny. Oops.


I saw her hair, her black hair swirling around her head in as she plummeted towards the still, inky black water below. It wisped around her in all directions. I saw her eyes. Her eyes were probably the most terrifying thing about her death. The way they looked back at where the silhouette of her killer, obviously a man, stood on the dirt cliff. 


And then, I saw the splash she made in the water as her small body hit the surface, causing a ripple and disrupting all the fish nearby. I watched as she sank, her yellow cotton bunny pajamas clinging to her skin as she thrashed violently, trying to get to the surface again. But a fifty foot fall had propelled her too far down, and soon her small and pale legs got caught in the slimy weeds growing up from the bottom of the black lake. In her last terrified breath she tried to scream. Maybe, she thought, there was someone around. But no. Her killer was smart. He had waited for her to get up and crawl out of her mother's tent and stumble, still half asleep, to the ladies bathroom, which, from where her and her mother had set up their camp, was a three minute walk away. It was the middle of the night. No one was awake to even hear her scream, if it had even reached the surface. Her lungs filled with the freezing water and instead of being cold, they burned as if someone had set them on fire. Her vision blurred. 


And then it didn't hurt anymore. 


As the small girl sank down into the black lake, not to be found for another thirty two years, her killer retreated back to where he had set up his camp, and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep (not that I would know anything about that). He felt pretty good about himself in that moment, I imagine. 


Giving up on sleep I stood up and waited a second, giving myself a second to adjust to suddenly being standing, and then stiffly stumbled a few feet to where my light switch was. I flipped it on and I swear I could feel my pupils scream, "What the hell"?! as the harsh light blinded me. I looked around my room for a second before scooping my cat, Mister Piper, who was a little sleeping black ball, off the floor with one hand, and my computer off my desk with the other. 


I sank into my bed, leaning against the wall and set Mister Piper next to me, and opening my computer, which was open to a report on the discovery of the girl who I'd just been dreaming about's body. According to some expert, she had been in Harvey Lake for about thirty years. I knew in that second, the first second that I saw the news the day she was discovered, that it was only a matter of time until she began haunting me.

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