Bloody Mary

“Storms are stupid,” I mumbled to myself as thunder rumbled, lighting the sky with a flash of lightning. I felt chilled to the bone from the cold, crisp air and despised the gloomy, October evening with every fiber of being. Why did we even need to move all the way to Pennsylvania when we were perfectly fine at home? I didn’t like moving to Pennsylvania. It wasn’t because of all the friends I’d leave behind nor was it because I wouldn’t get to experience city life, but because the house we were moving to was my great-grandmother’s.

With her shiny, gray hair and lively hazel eyes, she would always raise our spirits when we were down, baking our favorite chocolate chip cookies and cracking jokes too. They tasted the best when she made them and she never failed to bring a smile to my face even if her jokes would get glares from my mother.

Despite how much I loved her, that didn’t mean I wanted to live where she died. Although my parents were pretending, the truth is that five years ago, police officers found my great-grandmother’s dead body there. I’d never forget my mother’s sobs as she heard the news on the phone and I’d never forget hearing my great grandmother was found impaled on her bed with multiple wounds. It sent shivers down my spine thinking about it and a gnawing feeling in my stomach.

Since then, not a single person has lived within my great grandmother’s house. Not a single person until now. I knew my parents got promoted, and needed to move here for their new jobs, but I couldn’t understand why we moved to our great grandmother’s house. Do they seriously want to live in a house where a murder happened? So for once after holding it in for so long, I asked,

“Mom, Dad….why did we decide to move to Grandma’s house instead of buying a new one? Don’t you know about the rumors being spread?”

Some people said the person who killed my great grandmother was Bloody Mary, a little girl who drowned in a lake but lived after death, wandering around the human world. An internet search revealed to me that the pond where she drowned was filled up to become a foundation for the house where my great-grandmother lived. I have always thought that any fictional story about zombies, vampires, unicorns, and so on was just a MYTH, but I was starting to have second thoughts.

“Well, my dear, your mom and I can’t afford a new house right now,” Dad responded, turning his emerald, green eyes towards me. “It already cost so much to travel here, and you know rumors are just rumors.”

“Your dad is right,” Mom agreed, “What happened to your great-grandmother was horrible, but we promise it won’t happen while we’re staying. Besides, you always loved to hang out in that house when you were little, didn’t you, Rico, Trisha?”

“I guess,” my two siblings shrugged, playing games on their phones. “Her house had a lot of cool art,”

But that was before. I wanted to argue, but I knew it’d be no use. There was no turning back now. No matter what I say.

With these thoughts stuck in my mind and my hope fading away, my mom finally turned the last corner of the block to our new home. I felt restless within my seat like a kangaroo waiting to hop. The house was just as I remembered it as we entered the driveway.

With a large porch filled with bugs and old eroded walls, it was a big mansion. An old one that my grandma lived in since she was little. The columns of the house had sharp, green vines spiraling up, giving a holy, majestic vibe. The setting sun made it feel even more holy, reflecting off the windows in all the right places. On the inside, there were three floors, and an attic where my great-grandmother kept all of her master artworks when she was alive.

As my mom and dad unloaded our stuff, I walked through the dark, wooden door, marveling at how gorgeous the house was. Maybe..it won’t be so bad living here. I thought as I turned on the lights, watching the crystal chandelier glitter in the light. When my older brother, Rico, and my younger sister, Trisha, came into the house, we played rock paper scissors to see who’d sleep in my great-grandmother’s room. Of course, I lost in the end.

“Wow, another loss,” Rico smirked as I stared at my clenched hand, “How many times is that now? 22? 44?” I mumbled a few words my great-grandmother would shame me for and dragged my feet through the halls, yanking my bags with me.

Just wait until next time. My thoughts darkly murmured as I walked through the eerie halls. Someday I’m going to smash that smirk off your face.

As I went to my new bedroom, my siblings went to theirs without looking back. We didn’t know what to expect. We had only entered the mansion twice before in the year Great Grandmother died. Things could be different just like the paintings on the walls, giving off creepy stares instead of playful eyes . My heart beat hard as I slowly walked up the creaking stairs. I didn’t know why I felt a cold sweat in my back nor did I understand how much I truly feared opening my new room.

I wanted to run away. Away from this house. Away from this country. It was like an animal instinct within me, telling me I was about to be caught in a trap. I ignored the feeling, though, stamping it down. If I ran and cried to my parents, my siblings would never stop mocking me and childing me for being such a baby.

Trying to calm myself, I slowly opened the door and cautiously entered inside, fumbling the walls for a light switch. I continued to do this, inching into the room little by little until suddenly the door slammed shut, blocking the light and making me jump in fright. What was that? I turned to open the door and what I saw stopped my heart completely. It was Bloody Mary.

She looked just like the rumors said. With blond hair and blue eyes, she wore a bloody, white dress with roses all over. She smiled when she saw my horror, showing off her lips painted red with blood. I screamed at the top of my lungs, trying to move, but I couldn’t. I was paralyzed. My legs, unmoving. I couldn’t move a single bit. I could only cry and whimper silently like scared prey, waiting to be devoured by a predator’s mouth. Bloody Mary slowly edged closer to me, singing the haunting melody of Ring Around The Rosey, a song most popular during the Black Death.“Ring around a rosie, a pocketful of posies~,” her honeyed voice trilled in delight as she grabbed the knife that floated out of her dress pocket. “Ashes, ashes, we all fall down~,”

She began walking forward, her voice sounding more and more excited with each step. My heart quickened to the rhythm of her steps, giving away how terrified I was. Just seeing the knife dyed red with dry blood made my heart shiver. Just how many people did she kill with that very blade? I didn’t want to know and I didn’t want to be next. Her looks and gestures taunted me, frightening me in the worst way possible. She was like a little girl, playing with her new toy. This can’t be happening! I don’t want to die! I struggled even more fiercely with my panicked thoughts, tears forming in my eyes.

Heaven must have heard my desperate plea then. After biting my tongue out of desperation, the spell broke, freeing me from my paralysis and letting me fall to the floor . I got up at lightning speed and ran towards the girl, hearing her scream as I shoved her towards a wall. Despite it being a reckless move, I bought some time, managing to run into the halls and towards the stairs. I soon heard a roar from behind and then a crash as Blood Mary chased after me. With every step she took, the lights began to flicker, making it hard to see in front of me.

“Rico! Trisha! Mom! Dad! Help me please!!” I shrieked as loud as I could as I ran but no one responded. It was as if the house was empty with no one inside. I was beginning to lose hope when I heard the front door slam repeatedly, each knock sounding more and more aggressive. Voices spoke through the door and I heard Rico and Trisha, arguing who locked the door. They were safe and alive. Relief flooded within me and I was halfway down the stairs when a flash of metal was thrown into the air, slashing the calf of my leg. Everything went wrong then.

With a loud cry, I tumbled from the stairs, falling off the railing I was desperately holding. I landed. Splat! Feeling every joint and muscle in my body break.

That damn knife! My thoughts seethed as black dots clouded my vision. I gritted my teeth to ease the pain, hearing laughter from the stairs above. Even if I couldn’t see her, I knew she was there, staring down at me with a sneer on her face. Just feeling her looking at me like a bug sent shivers down my spine. I tried to crawl towards the door, smearing once bright, white tile with blood as I heard her playfully skip down the stairs. I knew that my efforts were in vain when I heard the last step echo into the air. I knew it as soon as she appeared above me, bending over to pull the dagger out of my leg. It felt like she was punching me as she deepened the wound in my leg. I couldn’t tell if I was frightened anymore, holding in my screams and my cries of pain. It was a small victory and I savored it with pride. I savored it until she twisted the knife with her small, pale hands, an unwilling moan slipping from my tongue.

It was then that I realized this was the end of the line for me. Just knowing that shattered me into a million pieces. I thought about all those wonderful times in my life with my friends, and family and how fun my twelve years of life had been. I had so many wishes and dreams. I had so many regrets I wanted to fix too, but now, it is over. I would never have a chance to even think about them anymore.

“Why are you doing this…?” I whispered to Blood Mary, struggling to breath with the question. “What have I ever done to you?”

I wasn’t sure why I asked this question despite the pain thumping through my body. I didn’t know if she’d answer, but in the end, she did.

“You’re a curious little critter, aren’t you?” Her fruity voice said, tilting her head. I flinched, shocked by the sweet sounds of her voice. It sounded like the melody she sang, one that could put any child to sleep even if a demon was under their bed.

“Well, I should tell you since it’s your last hour alive.”

Her words felt like a slap to my cheek. As if cold water was being dunked over my head. I felt her cold breath on my skin as she whispered, “If your grandma hadn’t decided to fill up my house with dirt, none of this would have happened. In fact, that old lady might have been alive if she had stayed far away from me, but she’s dead now, and you’ll join her soon.”

With that said, she lifted the knife into the air, beaming brightly as she watched my face pale into a whiter shade. I felt the knife plunge into my stomach, slicing through me and dyeing the floor with even more red. It was the worst stab she ever gave. I screamed my heart out, feeling my heart trying hopelessly to cover for the loss of blood. My consciousness began to fade, causing more black spots to flood my vision and my aching body began to grow stiff as a tree. I felt the cold now like I was living in Alaska. I’ve never felt so much hatred for someone until now. Even when my sister lost my favorite CD or when my brother shoved me into a muddy puddle, I’d always forgive them in the end, but not this time. I knew even as my heart stopped, I’d curse Mary. Curse her for hurting me and curse her for hurting my beloved great-grandmother.

When I came back as a ghost, I learned that my life was over. I knew I was dead, but I couldn’t believe it. I kept whispering, “ It’s just a dream, It’s just a dream, you’ll wake up soon, ”My ghost self started to cry in the darkness of the room, and then I saw a ghostly light as countless people she must have killed over the years came out of nowhere and slowly surrounded me. They looked like the zombies in the Michael Jackson Thriller Movie. I saw my lovable great grandmother in her Harry Potter glasses, but I felt no happiness. I felt a cold sadness and grief, and most of all hate. The ghosts led me to my grave, guiding me to the skies above. Everything that I did and left on earth was gone forever, leaving nothing but dust.