It felt like a dream, a horrible but beautiful dream.
I was wondering around the streets of my neighbourhood but nobody recognised me, nobody said hello. I didn't know where I was going until I got there. The steps leading up to my house greeted me with open arms, but something felt different. This was the house I grew up in, the house I became who I am now in.
Although, it was also a house overflowing with secrets and lies. As I walked inside I noticed there was no colour left, only black and white. The floor creaked with every footstep, leading me to where it all happened. The kitchen looked frail and old but then I see her, staring at me from behind the island bench.
She was smiling, everything else was black and white but she was full of colour, like she always was. As she walks over to me I feel a sense of shame and guilt, I'm frozen, unable to move.
'I forgive you.' Her soft, sweet voice surrounds me and I look back at her unable to respond.
She disappears and I feel myself awakening, I try so hard to stay with her but I can't. I awaken and run downstairs hoping somehow it wasn't a dream, but it was, of course it was.
The only reminder of what happened to her is the knife I buried in the garden, the knife that killed her.
This post is in response to the #dailyfreewritechallenge posted by 
Don't forget to check back in for Chapter Three of my short story series later on today.
Thank you for reading.
Until next time,
Meliss
Photo Cred: https://favim.com/image/406110/