The Writer's Voice
The World's Favourite Literary Website
The Other Life
By
Alisha Morgan
Cody was trying to grade his student's papers. He wasn't sure why he
was doing this because he was a writer. Writers don't grade English papers.
He looked around. He knew this little room he was sitting in, but at the same time he didn't. Cody just sat there and graded the papers, even though
they all looked the same, and said the same thing. They were all about a murder victim that was killed in the 1850's. He didn't understand what this
was all about. Then he saw it.
YOU KILLED ME! YOU KILLED ME!
It was scribbled all across the paper in blood red ink. Then there was a moan. This moan was so loud, and you could tell its owner was in pain. Cody
was scared out of his wits. He recognized the voice, even though he didn't
know whom it belonged to. All Cody knew to do was to run, and run far away!
He got up off of the couch, opened the door and stepped outside.
What is this? Cody asked himself. He was outside, but this wasn't the outside he expected. It was dark, so dark that he could barely see, and the
thick, white fog didn't help matters. There was a foul odor in the air; it
smelled like a dead animal. Cody took a few long strides, but then tripped
over something. Whatever it was, it was hard and long. He looked back, and
to his surprise it was a body; a dead body!
Cody jumped up to run, but he wasn't going anywhere. His legs wouldn't work; even if he tried with all his might to make them go. "Cody, you aren't
going anywhere," a voice could be heard. Cody knew right then that it belonged to the moans that he heard earlier.
"I've got plans for you, Cody." Cody went white as a sheet, and fainted.
When Cody awoke, metal spikes that were connected to something that looked like a wood table, except it didn't have the legs attached, greeted
him. Then he heard swooshing sounds coming his way. "Where am I? What's going on?"
were a few of the questions running through his mind. The swooshing noise had stopped, right at Cody's body.
He looked up, and there it was; the dead body, except, this one was alive. "No, no, this can't be. If the body were alive I couldn't..." Cody's
voice got short with fear, "I couldn't see through it."
"I'm not an 'it' as you referred to me," the being said shortly.
"I'm a ghost, and I'm here to kill you." The ghost sounded most pleased with the last phrase.
"Why do you want to kill me? What did I do?" Cody asked frantically.
"You foolish man! You can't even remember the horrible things you did to me?
If I didn't want to enjoy your death, I would kill you right now for saying that!" The ghost replied. Cody was scared. Deep down he knew he knew whom
this ghost, this once beautiful girl, was. He could produce a fuzzy picture
of the ghost, except she was alive. She was about 5"4', bright red hair that
was very curly; she had a lot of freckles, and light brown eyes. He could
almost produce her name.
"What is your name?" Cody asked.
"It's Melissa. Melissa Walker," the ghost replied. Then she continued, "You knew that my husband, Craig, was out
helping the townspeople look for the murderer of Leigh Ashley, so you came
creeping around our house. You broke in, and hit me over the head with Craig's trumpet!" Melissa was telling Cody of that night. As she was telling
him, he was getting flashes of pictures in his mind. He then knew what all
happened, and who she was talking about.
Cody had been a very respectable man in the community; he was the mayor.
He played in the local band that got together when there was a festival; Craig was his best friend, and a fine trumpet player. He knew all about
Leigh Ashley too, because he was the one that killed her as well.
Cody finished the story Melissa started, "I knocked you out, and then wrapped you up in a quilt. I slung you over my shoulder and took you out to
the woods. Then, for no reason at all, I ripped your clothes to shreds and
cut you up. I knew you were pregnant, and I didn't want you to have a baby.
I don't know why I did what I did. You lost so much blood, and you were in
so much pain. You didn't even have enough strength to fight me off."
Cody started crying. He wasn't even aware of what he did, and he had no idea how he got to this place. He was very
confused, and was calling up a lot of self-hatred.
Melissa had turned around. There was a lot of commotion and rattling of metal. When she turned back to face Cody she was holding a large butcher
knife. "You're going to pay for what you did to me," Melissa stated with a
newfound, evil voice. "You're going to feel the same pain I felt, and then
some. I promise you, I'm going to enjoy watching you struggle, scream, squirm, and then finally die," Melissa swore.
Melissa Walker kept her promise to Cody. His screams filled her lair, and were mixed with her insane laughter. Both were shrill, and both filled
with pain.
When Cody woke up the next morning in his apartment he swore that the dream he had that night topped all the scary dreams he had ever had. The
strangest thing about it, though, was that he felt like he had been in the
dream. He felt as if he experienced the insanity, the pain, and the
conflicts that came with being a killer. Cody rose out of bed, and walked
into the bathroom. As he let his eyes meet his reflection in the mirror he
let out a terrified scream. There on his chest and stomach were scars that
were swollen and irritated. Trickling out of the injuries was thick, brick-red blood.
Critique this work
Click on the book to leave a comment about this work
