Prologue: The Ghost

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WHACK!

I cringed in pain as my face hit the hard floor. I was so scared. Never had I been this scared in my life. So, I closed my eyes, and I counted to five.

One. I felt blood drip from my mouth.

Two. I heard a trembling scream. One that was full of horror.

Three. I heard a shaking voice, begging for mercy. It was mothers.

Four. I heard a cruel laugh. Sloppy and unbalanced, yet full of enjoyment.

At five, I slowly opened my eyes.

The room I was in was small and untidy. A couch lay in the corner next to a double bed. On one wall there was a large tightly shut window, where the street lighted flooded in and cast shadows around the room.

My eyes fell onto the scene in the middle of the room, where I saw my mother being slapped once more to the ground in front of me. I trembled, stinging tears streaming down my face. I wanted to get up. To tend to my mother. To kill the one who is doing this to us. Yes, I hated that person that much. That person was my father.

My lower jaw shook with fear and anger as I looked up at him. With a beer bottle in one hand and the other scrunched into a fist, he wobbled dangerously from side to side. "Maybe now you will think twice before talking to me that way" he laughed and kicked my mother in the gut.

Like I said. I had never been so scared in my life. So I closed my eyes and counted to five once more, what I always did to calm myself.

One. My father still laughed cruelly.

Two. His laughs stopped.

Three, four, five, it was complete silence.

What had happened? Had he left? Did he kill my only loved one? Was he coming for me next?

I dared my self and I opened my eyes.

He was gone. The room was still. I was afraid. Yet somehow I knew I was safe. Using all the strength I had left I stood up, groaning in pain as I did so. I limped over to my mother and brushed the hair from her face. 'Good, she's still alive' I thought checking her pulse.

I then heard a groan that resounded from behind me. i turned and walked over to the open window. I gasped. In front of me, slumped in the fire escape, was my father. Badly bruised and bleeding, he gave out staggered breaths as he struggled to just keep his eyes open. I stared at him in astonishment, and soon a slight smile crept onto my lips.

Maybe this was it. Maybe my mother and I wouldn't have to deal with his cruelty anymore. I felt so relieved that I didn't even real care who did it to him. First thing I was going to do was call the cops. But maybe our neighbor alreadly did. Still, They would come, arrest my father, and bring my mother to the hospital. I was happy, but still...

At that moment, I felt a chill go through my spine. I had a weird feeling that someone might have been watching me. No, someone was watching me. Looking up across the street, I saw a dark silhouette, waving in the wind like a ghost. It stood on a roof top, Just across from my apartment. It was looking right at me. I knew it was. I then blinked and glanced down as a police car rolled up on the street, but when i looked back up, it was gone.

"You can't run, child" my fathers words caught me by surprise, and I looked toward him as he did me."you can't run... from the past" he gave out staggered breathes and gave a chuckle which led a series of bloodly coughs.

"W-what?" I asked, a feeling of fright now creeping in. He laughed once more, quietly, as his head began to dip down.

"He'll come.. So that you...can fulfil your purpose. You'll be the des-destroyer, of all...good" at this he fell into unconsciousness. My mind was at a loss for a response to this situation. What did he mean? I stumbled backward, in a daze. I felt my back touch the wall and i slid down it into a crouch beside my mother. I buried my face in my arms and wept. I didn't know why, exactly, maybe becuase of the possibility that my father could be true. But that was impossible...right?

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