by Sumita Hughes
...with a cheesy made up quote at the end!
Okay, let's get this straight, I didn't kill her. Though many people were there and many people saw me standing next to her, I didn't push her off the cliff. You might say it was a ghost, or a spirit looking for a bloodthirsty revenge on her aunt's twice removed, cousin's daughter, but it wasn't me!
That night after the field trip, I went home crying, because she was one of my best friends. My mom comforted me to try and forget, but who could? She was one of the most popular girls at school! She had dazzling blonde hair, rich, blue eyes, and the right curves.
Though I was blaming myself, some ghost was in some crazy hiding spot giggling at the damage it caused. Yes, I know, but you're probably wondering, what do I know? Well, the thing is, I can see ghosts. No, I never asked for it, and no, I don't enjoy it, but I had to live with it.
I saw a ghost, standing on the cliff, staring at her face like she was a monster, while she and I stood there, gazing at the sunset right before our teacher told us to leave. I saw him, creep up to her and give her a nice, solid shove, and that was the last I ever saw of her before she went flailing helplessly down the cliff, her scream tearing relentlessly at my icy heart. I didn't stop the ghost.
Some times at night, I hear her scream before I wake up, my face dripping with sweat, my hair matted to my forehead, and my breath short and choppy.
No, I didn't kill her, but I allow myself to get blamed for it, because I allowed the ghost to push her. I'm guilty, I'm wrong, but I'm right at the same time. My heart is beating even as I lay at bed, the same speed it was when she went.
When life hands you a best friend, don't push them off a cliff.