The story so far:
“I have brilliant news for you Miranda! The cancer has completely gone from your body, it’s like something has sucked it all out of you. It’s incredible.” The doctor’s words brought what should have been relief, but Miranda couldn’t help feeling a sickening guilt in the bottom of her stomach as if she didn’t deserve to be better. It took months for Miranda to feel normal again, she got a new boyfriend and she even changed her hair style, she was a new woman and she had completely forgotten all thoughts of the little girl. It had just been a very vivid bad dream, most likely brought on by the tumour or something.
Miranda had been waiting for this night for many years and as she sighed happily in the mirror she imagined what things would be like once Keenan, her boyfriend, proposed. She could have children, maybe three boys and they could move to a big house where the children could play in the garden whilst she sat at her desk writing a novel about love and feeling good. She casually opened the wardrobe, pulled out a short, red dress which she felt would compliment her tanned legs just perfectly.
She shut the wardrobe door and as she turned to see herself in the mirror she screamed.
There was nothing there.
She laughed at herself, she’d thought she’d seen a face behind her, but she was just imagining things.
Miranda put on her pearl necklace and went over to the window to see if Keenan was starting the car up yet, it was icy outside and the car would need to be defrosted before they went out. The car lights weren’t on, but something caught her eye on the roof.
She opened the window; a cold breeze stroked her skin as she leant out of it, trying to see clearer.
A pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her onto the roof.
“You took my life!” it hissed and as Miranda fell from the roof she could’ve sworn she saw the pale body of a young child, no eyes, only sockets and instead of clothes wearing bruises and blood.
Miranda hit the ground, her neck snapped in one swift click.
She saw only grey and felt only fire.


'Playing imaginary games pt 3' statistics: (click to read)

