Haunted

Mike Vox didn’t care for the girl he killed. She hadn’t listened to his instructions, it was her fault. Honestly, he hated all kids, and she was no exception, nothing but trouble. He had taken her out of view from other students, because she had sworn in his face. He had hit her over the head with a rounders bat, to teach her a lesson. She appeared to be fine for an hour without any sign of injury, until she collapsed and wouldn't wake up.
Everybody figured out later she had bleeding inside her skull.

Her name was Willow Mist, and a year had passed since she died. He didn’t care much, until August 28, 2014.

It started like a normal day. His class filed into the room, and he got the roll out. “Is Emma here?” he asked.
“Yep!” Came the reply.
“Justin?”
“Here!”
“Willow?” Wait, what? There was no Willow in his class. He looked hard at the roll, only to see the list of names go from 'Justin' to 'David'. No 'Willow'
A Hallucination.

He shook himself and finished the roll, then looked at his class. Everyone was doing the work they started last lesson, except for the girl sitting at the back of the room, staring at him. Her hair was cut into a pixie style, and it was black like the shadows. The way she was looking at him sent shivers up his spine. It took him a while to notice she wasn’t wearing shoes. He blinked and she disappeared.
Another hallucination.

But this ‘hallucination’ kept appearing all over the school in the first two periods. It was definitely Willow. Nobody else had black hair like that. Nobody had those hate-filled blue eyes. The worst part of it all was that nobody else could see her.

There was one other thing as well; tiny messages all over the school that read ‘murderer’. They appeared so frequently that Vox was starting to wonder if he was actually being haunted, or if any one else was seeing these messages

When his class went on a lunch break, he went straight into the empty staff room, only to see Her standing there.
“What do you want?” he challenged.
“You killed me, so what do you think?” Willow snapped, smiling, “I want to haunt you, then destroy your life, and while I’m at it, I’ll make sure everybody knows what you did.”
Vox didn’t have an answer to that. Instead he mumbled, “leave me alone,” and Willow laughed.
“Nope, you know now what I plan to do for the rest of your life.”

She stared hard at him with her cold, lifeless eyes, and he couldn’t take it, this was all too much. Without a word he ran from the room. Willow’s laugh followed him. “I’m a ghost, Mr Vox,” she called, “you can’t run.”

As soon as he left the staff room, he ran into Jill Mingrin, another teacher and a good friend of his.

He warned her not to go into the staff room, but she didn’t listen. Vox followed her in, and saw Willow still standing there. Jill couldn’t see her, of course. But she could see the message Willow had burned into the carpet. It read ‘Mike Vox is a murderer’ next to an abandoned box of matches and a jug of water that was often shared by the teachers.
Vox didn’t say anything.
Whatever part of his mind that was sane broke and shattered at the words.

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