Ghostly Vengeance

I closed my eyes and before I knew it, I was dead. Let me explain, my name is Megan Hansen, but my parents call me Meg, at least they did. I was born in Baltimore Maryland on December 17, 2004, to Veronica and Fred Hansen. Most would call them crazy or freaks but I call them unique. They believed in everything supernatural or paranormal and so did I. I never had any siblings or very many friends and this would ultimately be my downfall. You see, I was murdered the day before Halloween night, October 30th. I’m not sure who was my killer but they were incredibly terrifying. They lured me into their house after I was walking home from school with sweets and a promise to be the first person to see the haunted house that they had created. I should’ve known better, I shouldn’t have been alone but I always was. I entered the haunted house and was enjoying myself and the fun decorations and twists and turns. When suddenly I got an incredibly bad feeling that I wasn’t safe anymore. I tried to find the exit but it wasn’t there anymore, I was trapped. At this point, I started getting really frightened and I couldn’t find my way out. I screamed for help but no one heard me, no one except for the person who had led me in there in the first place. They knocked me out using what I think was a giant mallet, the kind you would get at your local Halloween store. When I came to, I was in a dark small room with no windows, only one door, which was locked. My nose ached terribly. It felt as if it had been broken and my head throbbed. I got up and jiggled the handle with no prevail. Once again I screamed for help but no one heard, no one came, it was just me and the sinking feeling that I was never going to be saved. Suddenly this man came in and I recognized him as the man who had led me into his haunted house. I screamed and I did not know what to do, I was so scared. He started walking up to me and I tried to run past him but he grabbed me and he picked me up and strapped me to the chair in the middle of the room. He gave me a dirty, old, scratched-up cup filled with a dark liquid and told me to drink it or he would hurt me. I didn't know what else to do so I drank it and after I swallowed my throat started closing up and I couldn't breathe. I started panicking and tried to scream but no noise came out. I could feel myself suffocating and he just stood there with a wicked smile on face and I was so terrified. Finally, I gave up struggling, because I knew there was no hope for me, and I closed my eyes because I did not want the last thing I saw to be his disgusting terrible smile, watching me die, amused. It was a terrible experience, I never imagined dying would be so painful, so traumatic, then again I never imagined I would be murdered. I am not sure what he did with my body but I hope someone finds it soon. I always believed in spirits and demons, but I never expected to become one. I can see myself in mirrors but I am haunted by the way I appear. I'm still wearing the same clothes I wore when I died, a light blue sweater vest, black baggy jeans, and white sneakers. But the clothes are dirty and mangled from being knocked out and dragged to that little, dark, room where I died, I’m assuming. I have black and red stains around my mouth from the poison I was forced to drink and my eyes are bloodshot red and not the usual hazel color they were. My nose was very crooked and I had a black spot on the right side of the back of my head from where I was hit and knocked out. I was truly terrifying looking and I couldn’t bear to walk past mirrors. It was around 5 p.m. when my parents realized I should have been home and they searched frantically for me. I made it home around 11 pm, I was very disoriented, and I walked into the house expecting to be seen and they just saw right through me. Their little girl was gone and at the same time, she was right in front of them. Today is Halloween, October 31st, and I have to spend it as a ghost, just a spirit wandering the dark town hoping and wishing that I can get some form of justice. I tried communicating with my parents but it was no hope. They were a complete mess, they alerted the police but since I was not gone for 24 hours they could not do anything about it. I waited and waited for the police to come through my home’s front door with some news about my missing body but nothing, they never came. It was getting dark now and the kids were coming out of their homes in cute or scary costumes. My parents and I always handed out candy because it was our favorite holiday and now it’s just a terrible memory for us. I decided to leave the house and roam the dark streets hoping to see the man who had killed me. I am not sure if the living could see me, or if they just felt a cold presence as I walked past them. I saw some police officers on the street, two young men who looked like they were in their late twenties, and so I walked up to them to hear their conversation. I expected them to be investigating my disappearance, instead, I heard them calling my parents a pair of crazies and that they were being paranoid. That I just ran away and led them to believe I was missing. Suddenly I felt an overwhelming rage flow over me, coursing through my cold, dead, spirit of a body, and I attempted to touch them. Anything, a slap, a punch, a kick, and I was able to. I learned that if I can focus enough or if I am extremely angry I can touch the living. It wasn’t a strong force but I knew it had worked when an officer jolted and freaked out. He asked his partner if he had touched his hand, his partner said no, and there was no one else near them. I decided to take advantage of this and wrote in the condensation of their squad car, “find me.” The cop saw this writing and thought he was being punked. As he stared at the ghostly like writing I continued writing and I wrote under that phrase, “megan hansen.” The cops were starting to get scared, I could see the look on their face change. The look of confusion and annoyance quickly changed to fear when I mustered enough strength and emotion to make the silhouette of my face appear on the windshield of the car. Almost right away the police officer got in their car and drove off in what looked like the direction of my house. I decided to follow them but as I followed the flashing lights of red and blue I recognized the face of a man. The very man who had killed me was out on the streets handing candy out to children as if he didn’t just murder a teenager in his house the day before. I followed him until he was isolated in his house and I started breathing down his neck. He felt the breathing and turned around but there was no one behind him. Just like I was, he was all alone. As I walked by every mirror in his house it shattered into hundreds of pieces and I could see him getting more and more frightened, and just like he did I had the most wicked smile on my face. He finally spoke aloud, “Who’s there?” and looked around frantically waving a metal poker from his living room fireplace. I wanted to show myself to him but I was having way too much fun torturing him like how he tortured me. I repeatedly flickered the lights of his house until he ran out of the room and locked himself in the bathroom. While in there he bent over the bathroom sink to splash cold water on his face and when he looked up into the mirror I appeared for just a split second and I swear I saw his heart stop. He punched the mirror and it shattered, cutting his hand and I just stood beside him watching him as he attempted to stop the bleeding. I was having way too much fun torturing him but still, it was not enough, I didn’t feel satisfied. He bandaged up his hand and walked back into his living room. He tried to call the cops on his landline but just before he got to the phone, I short-circuited it and I sparked and flamed right in front of his eyes. He ran to get the fire extinguisher and managed to stop the fire from spreading but I was nowhere near done with him. Still terrified he walked back outside and joined his neighbors with passing out candy to trick or treaters, in hopes that if he were not alone I wouldn't haunt him, but he was sadly mistaken. I did not want to harm the innocent people so I didn’t do anything drastic enough to harm them. I would breathe down the man’s neck till his hairs stood up and I would whisper into his ear, “I'm still here.” He quickly jolted and slapped the back of his neck and when his neighbors asked him if he was okay he said, “yes, I'm alright. I thought I had heard something.” Stupidly, he walked back into his house but I had cut the power so he could be in the dark, just like I was. I decided I had enough and I made myself fully visible to him. I roamed the second floor of his house so I could terrify him before appearing in front of him. He was in his living room as he heard my heavy footsteps and maniacal laughter from the second floor. As I made my way to the stairs I kept repeated aloud, just loud enough for him to hear, “why did you kill me?” and laughed crazily after each time. I could feel his fear growing and I did not care at all, I was filled with rage and I was not going to just let it go. I started to walk down the steps of the old house, each step creaking and groaning as the old wood met my cold bare feet. He saw my spirit-like body walk down the stairs, his eyes filled with horror, and his heart basically beating out of his chest. When I reached the final step I disappeared and he thought I had left, he was wrong. I appeared right in back of him and when he turned around and met my disgusting decomposing face he froze. My mouth dropped abnormally low and black liquid started oozing from it. He didn’t scream, he didn’t move, he just stood there frozen with complete and utter fear. He finally moved when a loud deafening screech came from my mouth, painfully piercing his ears. He covered his ears but still, he didn't move his feet. I wrapped my cold hand around his neck and started choking him. He started gasping for air tears welling in his eyes, trying to speak but all that managed to escape his blueing lips was a small squeak. I increased my grip, and I could see his face losing color. He tried to close his eyes but I would not allow him this small form of peace. I decided my face should be the last thing he sees before I kill him. With my other hand, I kept his eyes open until his body gave one last twitch and he fell out of my grip onto the hardwood floor. I did not feel remorse or regret for killing him, he was a murderer and lord knows who else he would’ve done this too. I left his body there in his living room and went to try and find my body. I eventually found it and he had left me in the room where he had killed me. I left his house but I Left the front door open so someone would find his body. I returned to my house and saw my parents talking to the same police officers who I had haunted a few hours prior. Eventually, they got a call and I knew that they had found his body. I followed the police officers and watched as they stood over his dead body. They searched the house and they found my body. My parents were absolutely devastated but they felt some sort of peace when the coroner told them I hadn’t suffered much, that it was a quick death. My death was ruled a murder because they found remnants of the poison the man used to kill me on his property, and his death was unknown. My parents held a funeral for me the following week and I stood next to them as I watched over my dead body all dolled up in the beautiful mahogany coffin. It was a lovely service and after I was buried and my parents returned home I was able to finally let go. I had gotten my justice, I was free, and although I never got to grow up and my parents would be in so much pain without me, I know eventually they’ll be okay. And so will I.