The sound of the frantic knocking awoke Mrs Trotter from her deep slumber. Peering at her clock, she found it odd that someone was at her door at midnight especially with there being a snow storm outside. She pulled on her dressing gown and walked to the front door with her eyes half open.

The sixty year old finally reached the door and pulled it open. A gush of wind hit her making her shiver but then she saw women standing at her doorstep in the freezing cold. She immediately recognised the woman as Annabelle Crate, her deceased friend's daughter. She hadn't seen Annabelle since Kathleen had died as she had taken off with her boyfriend after hearing the news. She never even showed up at her mother's funeral.

Mrs Trotter saw that Annabelle was shaking and her eyes were wide with fear. She soon realized that Annabelle wasn't alone. Standing far apart from Annabelle was a little girl who looked to be around five or six. Nobody could miss the resemblance between Annabelle and the little girl. The girl had the same ebony coloured hair and thick dark lashes Annabelle had. They both had creamy pale skin and a small pointy nose. The only difference was unlike Annabelle's warm hazel eyes, the girl had large starling blue eyes which where almost like ice.

It was obvious that the girl was Annabelle's daughter. However it was strange seeing Annabelle standing far apart from her daughter as if she was contaminated.

"H-help me please," Annabelle finally chocked out, breaking the silence.

"Annabelle… come inside-" Mrs Trotter started but Annabelle cut her off.

"He's dead… h-he's gone…" Her hazel eyes were bloodshot, her eyeliner was smudged and her hair was a mess. It was clear that something was off here.

"Who's dead?" Mrs Trotter asked, peering down at the little girl who's face was emotionless.

"She killed him, she fucking killed my husband," Annabelle shouted, not caring that her daughter was standing right there.

"Calm down Anna, tell me, who killed your husband?"

Mrs Trotter stared in horror when Annabelle pointed a finger at the innocent little girl.

"Annabelle surely you don't think-" Mrs Trotter was yet again cut off.

"There's s-something wrong with her. S-she's not normal; she kills things just by t-touching them." The little girl still stood there with a blank face.

"I don't understand?" This set Annabelle off.

"She's fucking crazy; my five year old daughter killed her own father just by touching him. Do you even get how messed up that is?" Annabelle yelled and started to back away slowly. Mrs Trotter realized that she was leaving.

"Anna, where are you going," she asked nervously.

"I can't do it anymore… s-she's a monster," Annabelle cried out before she took off running.

"Annabelle, come back," Mrs Trotter yelled after her but Annabelle never stopped. "She's your daughter." She hadn't even said goodbye to her own daughter. It was at that moment that Mrs Trotter realized that Annabelle was never coming back.

She finally looked down at the five year old.

She still had that emotionless face, no tear drop, nothing.

"Hello sweetie, what's your name?" Mrs Trotter asked with a warm smile on her face.

"October," she said in a soft and detached voice.

"That's a beautiful name, now let's get you inside." Mrs Trotter reached out but October suddenly jumped back.

"Don't touch me," said quietly.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you," Mr Trotter reassured her but October shook her head.

"You can't touch me or you'll die," October said in a cold voice.

Was in really true?

Could she take the life of someone just by touching them?

A/N: I started this story a while ago and took it down so I decided to repost it and see how it goes. The next chapter will be twelve years later when October is 17.

Please review, that would be awesome.