Underneath all the daises

A Story by A.M.V.

I STARED AT THE DEAD BODY in front of me. Through my eyes the world looked like an old black and white horror film. I was the unlucky girl that found the dead body dumped on the cold ground and the dead body was...was...who was this person anyway?

The corpse was lying face down and by the length of the hair I figured it was either a girl or boy who really needed a haircut. I went with the choice of it being a girl.

I felt an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I had to find out who this person was. I took a shaky step forward and felt a cold chill run up my spine. I quickly nudged the body with my sneaker and nearly shrieked.

It was disgusting.

That's when I noticed the stench--the horrible smell of decaying flesh over a mound of dirt. I groaned and tired nudging the dead body again, but this time I looked away. Every time I would nudge the body, I would shriek and bring my foot back in retreat quickly, failing at my attempt to turn it over.

When I had finally swallowed my fear and had completely turned over the body with a sickening flop, there was a bone-rattling discovery. The person was me.

A scared whimper escaped my lips and I backed away. My chest stung like bees were being shot out a leaf blower at me. I shook my head and covered my eyes and started to burst into tears. I tried to figure all this out while hot tears brushed my finger tips as I sobbed.

This was a dream--a horrible, disgusting, not worthy to be called a creation of the mind dream. No. Nightmare. I ripped my hands from my face and stared at the body again, hoping it would all just be my imagination. Please be gone, please be gone! I chanted in my head, pleading. This is all just a bad dream! I opened my eyes.

The limp corpse was still there.

I ran my scared eyes over the body. My body. Arms bruised, face pale, cheeks dirty with dry tears, lip ripped by blood--My shaky arm reached up to touch my lip, staring at the lip of my dead body.

My spine sent down a chain of shivers when my fingers came in contact with the dried blood on my lip. My interest sparked and I lifted my arms to check for purple bruises. They were all there, every single bruise that was on the dead body in front of me, mirrored on my skin.

I'm dead. My brain took a while to process it all. I'm really dead. Thoughts scattered through my mind, the crying stopped. The tears replaced with the desperation of my mind trying to find out how I died. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Last night. Dad got mad at me last night. I refused to go to "her" gravestone with him. He was drunk and mad. I tried to run. He got to me first, kicked me around like he always did and I fell asleep. Except...I dont think I ever woke up.

I replayed it in my head. After it was all over, I was staring at the wall, tears stinging my eyes. From the minute I felt the first hit, I knew my world was going to fall apart. My breathe started to slow and my eyes fluttered. The next thing I knew there was a cold sensation in my veins. I felt it burn through my veins, and helpless against it, I stayed still as the burning went up, going up, burning...and then....everything went black.

He killed me. My father killed me. Rage hit me and I screamed, dropping to my knees next to my corpse--screaming, crying, and then sobbing. Sobbing and sobbing. I was gone, I didn't exist anymore. My sobbing didn't ease and I sat there wondering what to do. I felt something tug at the pit of my stomach and I screamed when it got stronger. I felt hands grabbing me by the sides of my stomach, yanking me down into the earth.

I dug my fingers into the ground, searching for a strong root to hold onto or a rock that would at least slow down whatever was dragging me back. I felt the heat rise and I was yanked back helplessly. Darkness surrounded me....fire blazed around me...my scream faded....my entire feeling disappeared...