Dead Girl Walking (Watty Awards, 2012)

Authors Note: Hey guys! So yeah, I'm writing my first paranormal! The plot just came to me, in it's entirety, so here it is. Hope you guys like it. 

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As I move from this world into the next, a sudden realization hits me. I've actually succeeded. For once in my life I did something right, and now I'm dead. The panic sets in, and I immediately start screaming for help, yet I know it's no use. No one can hear me here.  I sit, and I wait, and I watch my cold, lifeless body, wondering what I was thinking. All I thought I wanted was death, yet in the last few seconds of my life all I wanted was to live. I don't think the complete truth of what's happened to me has sunk in yet.

I wait, and I sit, and finally I here my mothers normal shout of "Nikki, I'm home!" Five seconds go by. Ten. Thirty. "Nikki?" Then I here her footsteps up the stairs. She opens the door to my room. "Nikki! Are you in here?" No answer from my still lips. She opens the bathroom door, and takes notice of the pills scattered all over the floor, and my body lying lifeless on the ground. She screams. 

I believe I'm some sort of monster. I can see my body- it's right there- on the ground. However, I'm also fully aware of the fact that I'm perched upon the side of the tub. I can see my mom shaking my body, trying to wake me as tears stream down her face, yet I can say no words of comfort to her; I can't even cry anymore. It's almost like time's stopped. Everything's moving like it's stuck in Jello. I see someone I confessed to love in pain, yet I didn't even try to stop it.

Then I think something selfish; I shouldn't pity my mother. After all, she did the same to me. She saw all the pain I went through everyday, she caused most of it, but she never did anything to help. She never said anything comforting. No, she was always too busy with her own life.  Her piercing shriek jolted me back from my train of regrets into my twisted reality. "Oh God, oh God she can't be. She's dead! God no, no please. Please wake up, Nikki wake up!" Oh God. Why? Why am I dead? Why did I do this? Why didn't some one stop me ?

My mom picks up her phone, and dials a number. "Jon?" She's talking to my dad. "Jon! Come home, quick. It's Nikki." I can't stay and watch this. I stand up, and walk out of my room, down the stairs, and out the door in a numb daze. I pass my dad out the door, and stand directly in his way.  "Dad! I'm right here, don't freak, kay? Mom's just flipped, everything is fine!" Once I finish speaking he stops, and for a short moment I believe he's heard me. Relief washes over me. So I'm not dead! I'm still here! But then my dad shakes his head, looks at the house, says a silent prayer, and walks right through me. 

It's a warm feeling, and I feel the quick beat of the heart. Soon it's gone, and I'm left standing alone on the path. I curl up in a little ball, and I try to cry. Unfortunately, I'm not even given that simple comfort. The tears won't come, and I realize the only reason I want to cry is because I feel like I should. I'm so devoid of emotion that it scares me. All I feel is a hollow emptiness. The emptiness hurts so much, that I feel like I could scream. I can, but no one will hear me, so it won't matter. Instead, I wander. As I walk, I kick a stone and my foot goes straight through it. Go figure.

So is this what happens after death? You become some sort of weird ghost? Well, as long as I'm a ghost I might as well do some haunting. I search my broken memory for a day of the week. Let's see, umm. Monday, then Tuesday, I killed myself Wednesday. Making this Thursday. Perfect. Next destination: My old middle school.    

**Short Background On Me**

I was in 8th Grade when I died. Now I do admit that suicide might have been an over reaction, but at the moment it seemed like the only option. Every day, I would go into school feeling like no one ever heard me. I was invisible. It's not like I was bullied, or picked on, I was just not noticed. I would try and talk to someone, and it would be as though they never even heard me. Don't get me wrong,

I had a couple of friends... once... However, between 6th grade and 8th grade, I slowly began to change. For awhile everyone noticed it but me, but I shortly began to realize (by reading my old journals) exactly how much more distant I had become. It's almost like I was always looking for reasons to be sad, and I pushed away anything that made me happy. I didn't, couldn't understand it. My brain couldn't wrap around the fact that I didn't need to be sad. 

Things weren't much better at home. See, when my mom and dad had me, they weren't too thrilled. My mom was only 18 when I was born, and though she loved me, she never showed it. She assumed that just because I was there, nothing would change. My mom was determined to get her degree and still start a life for herself. She did, of course, manage to live her own life of sorts. Of course it only came with one small cost: her daughter. See, she totally forgot me. It's almost like I only existed when she needed me. She worked 8 hours a day, said her daily "hello," then left. My dad was always there though, at least, he was there more than my mom.

Overall, I didn't really have a good enough sob story to be pittied too much. So things got bad, things got worse, and for some reason I figured that dying was the only way people would even listen. I pictured a sob story funeral, and the aftermath of school, where everyone said "She was such a great girl, why did we do that to her?"  

So yeah, maybe suicide was some twisted sort of revenge towards the people who did me wrong, and that might have been my biggest mistake. Who would feel sorry for a person who only died as a way for revenge? I felt sorry for myself, if that makes any difference. 

First day of school since I died, and rumors were buzzing. It's just like it usually is. Everyone was talking about me, and no one noticed me. My name was like a tabooed word. It's almost like it's common courtesy not to talk about me, but no one could resist it. My name was whispered through the halls. As I followed along, passing through people to feel their flesh and blood, I also heard thoughts.

Teachers thought things like, 

"It's a shame, really. She was so bright, could have gone so far."

 Students thought things like,

  "I can't believe she really did it. I figured it would happen eventually, she was always such a freak."

"I remember her. She was in my 4th grade class, we were like, best friends. I wish I would have

stuck by her. Was it my fault?"

"Ha. Looks like she finally got what she wanted; attention."

"I should have been a better friend." 

I can't take it. I feel a heavy weight drop on my chest. What did I expect? 

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Authors Note: Yup! So that's the end of the first chapter. I hope you liked it! I'm planning on getting the next chapter up by tomorrow night, so we'll see if that happens... Thanks, Vote/Comment/Fan! 

-DreamWithWords