The Girl Behind Me

What’s with her? She never stops watching me. She’s behind every corner and waiting for me at every chance, hiding in the shadows of reality. I try to put her out of my mind but I can’t. She just stands opposite me or behind me watching me but being completely ignored by everyone else. People just pass her like she’s not there. How could you miss her? She would stand out in the middle of any crowd and yet no one seems to notice her. Is everyone ignorant of her or do they choose not to talk to her for fear of being called a freak.

Why she follows me I’ll never know. I’m not any different from any other life form on this planet, I just live my life one day at a time. And yet, she still follows me. I don’t know why. Nothing ever interesting happens in my life. I’m not a very exciting person to be honest, I’m just your average school girl concerned about exams and deciding my future. I’m no different to anyone at my school.

Her face is blank, completely neutral, never smiling or frowning. She watches me though, watches my interaction with people, watches how I study, she watches my every move. Knows everything about my day, what I do at home, what I do at school, my opinions, my dreams, my thoughts, my interests. She knows all this and yet I know nothing about her. All I know is that she’s been following me ever since I was a child and even then I could only sense her presence, not physically see her like I do now.

Who is she? I always wonder. Yet I can’t communicate with her simply because I wouldn’t know what to say. I don’t even think she has a voice. She scares me sometimes but I don’t want her to leave. Not until I find some answers to my questions. All I can tell is that sadness consumes her soul, her blankness and unnoticing nature of other people can only make me suspect that she is depressed in some way. But why? What has she done?

She’s tall, older than me with a slim, curvy body, perfectly proportioned in every way and amazingly beautiful. Her long lank hair hangs over the right side of her face, her hair, black as a raven’s wing. Her eyes are as empty as the universe. She is dressed in the tattered remains of a white nightgown, slashed, ripped and smeared with blood stains and dirt. Her white skin is covered in bloodied wounds which have not healed and constantly bleed, her bare feet leaving bloodied footprints as she follows me. She is crying sometimes, but the tears she weeps are not clear like water but crimson like blood.

She is not of this world, she’s a wandering soul hiding in shadows and watching the living.

I can see her and she knows I can.

But what could someone do to deserve this fate…

Did she kill someone?

Did she hurt people?

Was she sacrificed for someone?

I don’t know… and I never will…