Violet Grimmer: A Narrative Fiction

I wished for my simple life. I wished for the old family I had. I wished for the piece of mind I had before I knew such things as monsters existed. I wished, but my fairy godmother eluded me. The kid offered me his hand. When I moved to take it my arm burned as if someone had lit me on fire.

"Don 't move. You 'll only make it worse." He mumbled. I groaned. I didn 't dare look at the damage but when the kid peeled back my sleeve I heard him wince.

"What happened to the hell hound?" I asked. He didn 't look up from my arm, examining it.

"Killed it." He said simply. I gaped at him. How had some scrawny teenager killed a beast the size of a small New York apartment? I could never dream to do such a thing.

He opened his bag, pulling out some kind

"My name is Trey." He answered my unspoken question. He did not look at me. Knowing his name did not quell my fear.

"Violet Grimmer." I said, doing the polite thing.

"I know."

He lead me down all the back alleys and darkened pathways he could. I listened to my own footsteps, and marveled at the lack of sound he made. He stopped us occasionally, listening to the howling of the wind. I saw his finger itch at his jacket pocket occasionally, but he never pulled out whatever was in it. Maybe it was one of the knives he had used to kill the hell hound, or maybe the medallion that glowed gold around his neck, illuminating the crazed look in his eyes. I wasn 't sure, but whenever I saw his hand move toward it my heart beat out of my chest.

He didn 't speak to me. He only looked at me when he turned to see if I was still there.

We walked for hours on end. My arm began burning again, but I didn 't complain. The adrenaline stopped, and exhaustion threatened my limbs. The night air nipped at me, and the stars I once loved seemed dangerous and threatening, like they new something I didn 't.

"We 're here." he said. I had fallen into a painful rhythm, and I was all too

"I can see the price she paid for it." They said, gesturing to my arm. I looked this time, and saw my sleeve covered in blood. I saw the inside of my arm and the blood still gently trickling out. What ever cream he had put on it had somehow slowed the passage of time, keeping me from bleeding out and dying. That raised another unanswered question.

"What do you mean I risked my life? I 'm already dead. How can I die again?" I asked. They both stared at me.

"It 's not exactly death that would have happened. In fact no one really knows what happens. When ghosts die they just, disappear like smoke." Trey said.

My head was spinning. I had always been afraid of death, but once I actually died that fear was gone. The worst thing that could have happened, already did. Now that fear had returned and I was left shaking in the night while Trey walked to the raft.

I felt as insignificant as I had when I was in high school. Small and unimportant, like a bug. I could see myself slowly being crushed by the boot of fate. An unpleasant sight to say the least.

I moved sluggishly toward the raft, hoping I would wake up from the nightmare my life had become. I 'd had that wish many times over the last two