Chapter 3
She sighed. Maybe she was imagining it. Then as she rounded the next corner, she felt something pass her and she sneezed. The feeling left as fast as it had come. It’s nothing, she thought, Just nothing. But as she exited her thoughts she froze where she was. She was wrong, it was something.
What, or more like, who stood, in front of her was some-what translucent. Her eyes widened as she realized it was a person, a man. The clothes he wore were a pair of ragged jeans, a short sleeve shirt that had a hole in it in the chest area, and as she looked up to meet his gaze, he had a large smirk plastered to his face. She also notic
Chapter 2
Christa had taken off her sweatshirt and held it under her arm. She had wiped her face off with it and the pocket knife. She then put the knife in her pocket. But she had a wound that was still bleeding. During the struggle between her and her father, he had hit her on the forehead with a vase in an effort to stop her from killing him. She ignored her wound. If anyone asked she would tell them that she fell down the stairs or something more convincing. Her plan was first heading to the laundromat to get her sweatshirt cleaned and after that she didn’t know where to go.
Once she arrived at the laundromat the man at the counter
Chapter 1
Christa was breathing heavy. She had just killed someone, but not just someone, her father. The tips of her long dark brown hair, her sweet looking face, and her black sweatshirt were covered in a crimson shaded blood. She held a pocket knife that was dripping of fresh blood in one hand, and in the other her father’s shirt. She was grinning with delight. She didn’t know why she felt this way, but it felt great. Christa was 16 years of age. She also had brown eyes and never was one to be known to like violence and act violent.
Her mother shook in the corner fearing for her own life and for Christa. She had her head
Chapter 3
She sighed. Maybe she was imagining it. Then as she rounded the next corner, she felt something pass her and she sneezed. The feeling left as fast as it had come. It’s nothing, she thought, Just nothing. But as she exited her thoughts she froze where she was. She was wrong, it was something.
What, or more like, who stood, in front of her was some-what translucent. Her eyes widened as she realized it was a person, a man. The clothes he wore were a pair of ragged jeans, a short sleeve shirt that had a hole in it in the chest area, and as she looked up to meet his gaze, he had a large smirk plastered to his face. She also notic
Chapter 2
Christa had taken off her sweatshirt and held it under her arm. She had wiped her face off with it and the pocket knife. She then put the knife in her pocket. But she had a wound that was still bleeding. During the struggle between her and her father, he had hit her on the forehead with a vase in an effort to stop her from killing him. She ignored her wound. If anyone asked she would tell them that she fell down the stairs or something more convincing. Her plan was first heading to the laundromat to get her sweatshirt cleaned and after that she didn’t know where to go.
Once she arrived at the laundromat the man at the counter