She looked about 14 years old but she was caked with grime, mud and yes, blood. “Who are you?” I asked, tentatively. But her cries had ceased and no reply came. Partly revolted, I leaned down towards her neck to take her pulse. Nothing. I called for help and soon Pa came and lifted the girl up in his protective arms.
“Jina there was nothing you could do,” Ma said as she washed the dishes.
“But there was wasn’t there? I could have, I don’t know, run or-“
“Jina you are being silly. Even if you had saved her I couldn’t have helped her. She was stabbed multiple times.”
Ma knew that as she had washed and dressed the body in my old Sunday best. I could hear Pa shovelling the dirt back onto the body. With that I tucked my head under the covered and slipped into sleep.
And I woke up. Blood. Blood on the carpets, blood on the floor. Why was there blood? “Ma, Pa!” I screamed. No response. Dread hit me hard. “No no no no no no. Help! Help! Can anyone hear me?!”
“I can hear you,” a voice from across the room spoke. Silver blond hair gleamed across at me. It couldn’t be. Could it? Was that the girl from earlier. Silver hair, blue eyes and shabby clothes. Yes, it had to be. A long knife sat smugly in her hand, it’s cruel curved bland grinned. She looked at me. Eye contact. “I would love to stay, Jina, but dear old Thompson is looking for his head. He picked the wrong girl this time. However, he does hate to be kept waiting and I have an appointment with him. Goodbye Jina”