Afterlife

I suppose if I'm honest, I didn't really mind school at the beginning. It was all so new to me, so exciting. I soon changed my mind! School was never the same again after the arrival of...
Crystal Wynters, who certainly didn't live up to her name.
The hushed tones and whispers rang loud in the corridor when she shuffled past quietly, face as red as a dump truck on fire. The sniggers behind her back, morphed into ominous shrieks of laughter when one of the jocks tripped her up. Ten minutes into the new term and her confidence was already shattered. Crystal grabbed her books and scuttled into Psychology class.
This was the first time I sneaked a glance at her. I could soon tell what the whispers and sniggers were for. She wasn't like the rest of us Hilton High students; we were all glamorous, elite and spoilt. She was trashy, stumpy and unattractive. Her skin was dull and lifeless as if she were dead and her hair was short, matted and greasy. If that wasn't enough to alienate her, her clothes would deal that final blow. She didn't belong here and everyone knew it. I managed to stifle a giggle at her outfit before I burst into a fit of laughter. Her vivid, green eyes met mine for a second and at that moment, I felt what was like a blast of ice-cold air shooting through my veins. I sat stunned and overwhelmed for a short while, until Mr. Layton our Psychology teacher, strolled in.
"Good morning class. I'd like you all to welcome a new student here today. Her name is Crystal Wynters and I'm sure she'll fit right in," he proclaimed
"Yeah right," I muttered under my breath. I'd sat in the same room with her for less than five minutes and I was already wary of her evil stare, cold disposition and jet black aura.
The rest of the day was a total blur but everywhere I went, I could sense Crystal was nearby. There was something odd about her, everyone said she was a freak; but I knew there was something more sinister about her. I just didn't know what.
The alarm rang shrilly the next morning and cut the cold, crisp air like a freshly sharpened knife. I awoke from my deep and peaceful slumber to get ready for school. I felt better today but I had a dull, sickly feeling in the pit of my stomach as if something was going to go wrong.
"Indie baby!" smiled Beckett. My heart skipped what felt like three beats while my boyfriend casually sauntered towards me across the football pitch. The nausea quickly subsided as he put his arms around me and locked me in his warm, familiar embrace. "Morning honey." I sighed serenely. His arms suddenly seemed to lock tighter and tighter around me until I pushed him away, terrified by his burst of aggressiveness. I looked into his dark, stormy eyes and searched for some kind of explanation. "What the hell Beckett?!" His hazy, grey eyes began to fill with tears.
"Something happened last night Indie, something bad," he whispered
I'd never seen him cry before. I figured he was scared. "Well, what?" I questioned
"It's Crystal," he choked.
"Eugh, what that stupid bitch?"
"She's dead Indie!" he snapped.
"Well what's that to do with you?" I retaliated.
"...I killed her," he spoke with remorse.
"You...what? No, no you didn't," I stuttered.
"I did Indie, it was an accident, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time and now she's dead!" he cried. All too soon that sick feeling crept slowly back inside me and forced me to throw up.
I came round again in a daze with someone's cold, unfamiliar hands tapping my wrists and their strange, seductive voice cooing my name. I slowly opened my eyes and looked up. I immediately jumped back. My heart was beating so loudly it was ringing in my ears. I managed to spit out a few words, "You were dead,"
Crystal chuckled, "Well I look pretty good for a dead girl, don't ya think?" I let my eyes focus on her. She had changed. Gone was her short, lank hair, replaced by silky, luscious, brown locks. Her make-up looked airbrushed and her body was beautifully elongated and slim. Anybody else would have passed her off as a different person. But I knew by those emerald green eyes that it was most definitely Crystal. As she ravaged my soul with those haunting eyes, the bitter coldness flooded back around me again.
"Yeah you do," I muttered quietly. I ran into school, not looking behind me once. I kept running until I found Beckett and rushed into his arms. He seemed detached and emotionless as he clutched me close to him. "She's alive Beckett," I sobbed.
"I know sweetie, I saw her," he croaked.
"Well this is a good thing; I mean this means you didn't kill her." I began to perk up
"No Indie, she was dead. Okay? She ran in front of the car, I slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. I got out and she was sprawled on the road in a twisted, unimaginable shape. I picked her up, put her in the trunk and drove to Creek's Forest. Then I buried her. she was cold by the time it was over," he recalled. I looked into his eyes and I instantly knew it was the truth.
I had read about reincarnations somewhere before and believed it and now this proved that everything I'd read had been true. I read that the victim often came back different, like in appearance. Check. That their voice would change. Check. They would be cold and unfamiliar. Check. I let it circuit in my head over and over again. Crystal was dead and she'd came back to life. And she'd come back with a vengeance.
*****
But that was five years ago. They say time heals: not for me. It was the 5th May 2004 when Crystal 'came back to life' and every year since then, on the 5th May, she visited me in my dreams. Those intense, emerald eyes burning with rage stared at me throughout my sleep and the next day, one of my friends met an untimely demise. Every single year.
I pieced the puzzle together over the four years and realized that there was a sequence and method to her killings. This year, it was my turn. I knew this because I was the 5th person who knew about her death, so coincidentally , I'd be the fifth person to die.
First it was Beckett, his throat slit by hidden razor blades in the soap. Then Theo, overdosed on a cocktail of prescription drugs and choked on his own vomit. The following year, Jade met a grim death from interference with electrical wiring in her home.
On May 5th 2008, demise caught up with Andie and offered her a severe blow to the head with an unidentified, blunt object. Now it was me, next on her list of sick, twisted revenge. But unlike the others, I was ready for her. I was sick of seeing everyone I love die and now she'd get a taste of her own bitter medicine.
That day I prepared myself and gathered my emotions. They were trashed and scattered all over the place. I knew I had to go to her burial site and wait until the full moon submerged from behind the tall, looming trees. That's when I would strike and finish her off once and for all. I'd lost too much already and I wasn't losing anything else just because of her.
I shivered as I trudged my way through the wasteland to reach the forest. It was a cold night, not like a regular May evening. A short while later, I reached the shallow grave. I was shaking uncontrollably with fear but I knew I had to compose myself, so I didn't attract any unwanted attention. The cold, whispery breeze floated through the treetops and round my hair. I sighed heavily, trying to calm my nerves.
"Hello Indie." that strange, beautiful, bell-like voice silently spoke. I felt a set of icy fingers brush delicately across the nape of my neck. Terror pulsed through me like a tidal wave. "Cr-Cr-Crystal?" I stuttered in sheer fright.
"I believe you're here for a good reason?" she asked nonchalantly. I couldn’t reply. I was benumbed by her presence. I don't know how, but I summoned a shot of courage and I spun round and grabbed her by the hair and pulled as much as my arm would allow. "Get off me!" she wailed.
The next half hour was a blur, but I could vaguely remember there was an almighty scuffle, with a lot of punches thrown and carnage on the forest floor. I woke up on the mossy ground, surrounded by the vital fluid trickling between the rocks and shrubbery. I thought it was mine until I looked down at my hands which were lathered in ruby-red blood and clutching a kitchen knife with a vice-like grip. My head cocked to the left and I noticed a limp, lifeless body lying motionless on the damp floor. I crawled over silently, forcing my heavy, shaken breathing back inside, my lungs felt as if they were being bludgeoned repeatedly. I looked for some sign of life.
Nothing.
She was dead.
At last, the curse had been broken. I smiled in delight and caught a glimpse of myself in the blood stained weapon. I always thought I had a dazzling smile. That day, I confirmed it was true…
'The bigger the smile, the sharper the knife.'