Here is a little bit of fiction for you. Enjoy.

Drip, drip, drip, drip. The water leaked through the small hole in the roff, dripping loudly in the pan. A drip that echoed throughout the large house.

Paula, internally cursed her self for the open plan of the house. She knew in id moments she would be fast asleep and the drip would no longer be heard by her young ears.

As the drugs took effect she slowly drifted to sleep the pain, forgotten, the drip, forgotten. She slumbered with a smile on her face.

She was out, her medication, strong enough to knock her out, completely, racing through her small, crumpled pain ridden body. So deep in sleep she was when the equally youthful man climbed through the window and sat at the edge of her bed. His face scared from glass or possibly acne. He held her hand, his hands clad in leather gloves.

He checked her out. Her limbs still covered in bandages from the burns and cuts . Her torso wrapped up like a child on Christmas morning in Alaska. The burn where every where except her beautiful face.

A tear fell down his face as he shifted his gaze to the pill bottles and boxes on the side table. Pain meds, antibiotics, antivirals, antidepressants, sleeping, vitamin tablets, tablets for everything.

“I am so sorry,” he suddenly whispers to her, “I should never have taken you out when I was drunk.”

He looked down at her perfectly shaped face, her heart-shaped lips and his eyes leaked, one more.

Dropping her hand he felt he was being watched. he feared her father. As he stood and turned in the same move he froze, his face filled and frozen with terror. She stood before him.

No burns, no bandages, no pain filling her beautiful ocean blue eyes. The eyes instead, were filled with anger so intense he could feel it from the impossible figure in front of him and her sleeping body to his right.

His face, controlled with terror, refusing to move as she walked forward until she was a mere inch away from him. He heard her voice, though neither set of lips move. “I have been waiting for your visit. You couldn’t stay away. You caused this, you caused my body to be battered and bruised.” Smiling she knew he knew that sorry is clearly not enough. He began to flex his left hand and then, seconds later the right hand-held the left arm.

His face, still holding the terror, now controlled in pain as he dropped to his knees, he looked up at his beautiful girl friend who conscious apparitions face was twisted into a vindictive smile. On he his knees, gripping his chest he tried to call out with no joy. Nothing left no voice or oxygen, she stood and watched as the life slowly drained from the heart attack ridden body. Her smile twisting her beautiful face into a twisted  version of itself.

She looked at her own sleeping body and within moments the machine to its right beeped marking the death of the young girl. Her father came rushing in and tried, in vain, to bring her back but he soon gave up. He knew she didn’t want to suffer any more.

He only found the body of the man responsable  at the other side of the bed several moments mater.

A smile spread across his face, his grief momentarily forgotten as he said to himself, “That’s my girl,” he said out loud, giggling slightly as he did.

She had her vengeance and now she would rest in peace. She always loved, disappearing, even though she was not visible to her father, her spirit never walked those floors again. She was happy, she died with a smile on her face.

Never again would someone drink drive again in the area. She became  a warning, drink drive and you will see her and feel her wrath.

Happy Writing


  1. Joe says:

    Whoa!! Drip, drip, drip, goes the terror sweat down my horrified face! I’m never drinking and driving again!!

    It’s is straange and proper harsh why the lady police officer killed this man by heart attack usually you’d just get a fine and banned from driving. Unless they were’nt at the scene then I guess its hard for them to proff he was drunk. I do think his family have a good case and should take this to a police tribunal they’d easy win…probably get a free holiday out of it. Swansea’s nice this time of year. Maybe the laws changed and the police can do this now, who knows. Ages ago it was ok to kill a prostitute…John the ripper killed loads in the olden days…my gran alwasy siad he should have took up a better hobby like budgie smuggling. There’s shed loads of money to be made from that although the noise of them tweeting would drive me crazy…I think I’d end up strangling them as well as the prossies…LOL!!!

    Anyway not a bad story…I’d change the police officer to a ghost or something or a troll. You don’t see many stories about trolls nowadays. They don’t all live under bridges you know…I work with a few LOL!!

    Keep writing!

    Zombie Joe.

    • Simone Young says:

      Hehe, this made me giggle. Its a tale where the man climbs through the window to see his exgirlfriend who was hurt in an accident where he was drinking and driving. When he said sorry he thought her father was beind him turned around and there she was no injuries, it was her ghost. He dies from a heart attack. She’s appeased and dies. Her father come in and finds them both dead. He’s glad the guys dead and know his daughter does it and feel it as she “passes over”.

      Glad you enjoyed it, glad it put you off drinking and driving. Next is text and driving.

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