A Ghost Story

She ran. All she could do was run. She ran to save what was left of her life. The night was crisp, fall weather, and the wind howled as it blew. October 31, it was Halloween. People crowded the streets, hiding their true identities under masks and makeup. None of them noticed her. She blended in. She felt the warm sting of the blood on her clothes, dripping from the wound the knife left. He was coming. The cold air nipped at her battered and bruised face. She felt him there, hidden. His face was masked as well, making it harder for her to find him. The fight had left her weak, now all she wanted was help. Still, no one listened. They acted as if they did not hear her. She screamed, louder and louder. The people kept going. Not knowing what was happening she stopped. Absolutely no one saw or heard her. She was beginning to panic. Then, out of the dark shadows, he appeared. It was not the man chasing her. No, he did not frighten her. The man took her hand and they began to walk. She felt strangely at peace with him. They walked into the woods where she was attacked. She could still smell the blood and hear the screams. Then, she saw it. This man had brought her here to show her. The body layed crumpled on the ground. She was dead.