Child's Play

If you're listening to this then I'm probably behind bars or underneath the earth right now... I'm not too sure why what happened to me, happened to me. Maybe I'm just unlucky. I swear though, what I did... It wasn't me who did it. I know how crazy that sounds but hear me out and decide for yourself. Regardless of what you think about me if you've found this you'll know who you need to give this tape to. Please.
My name is Kathy Wallis. I'm a social worker. I love my job even though the kids I work with... well lets just say they're not the ordinary type of orphans. I'm forty three years old, brown hair, brown eyes, nothing special. The reason I'm in the mess I'm in right now is because of my morbid curiousity. I just can't help myself. If anything looks evenvaguely interesting I just have to check it out. I now believe what everyone says: curiousity did indeed kill the cat.
So I woke up on a Friday morning, about two or three weeks ago, ate my usual bowl of Kelloggs Crunchy Nut, put my hair up in it's ususal bun, donned my usual brown suit and left for the office at half past eight, as usual. It looked set to be a nice, normal, boring day. I got into the office at quarter to nine, had a cup of coffee to wake me up, and got started with my day.
It started out like usual. I logged onto my computer and checked my e-mails from the foster carers of all the children I helped. It was looking good, no major problems anywhere. I answered phone calls. I made a few of ny own. I had my lunch and another cup of coffee. Then I decided to go poking around the filing cabinets.
That's when I found the document that would lead me into horrifying things.
I found it under Closed Cases. I read a few. Mostly they were just kids who had found happy, permanent homes. But I found one that piqued my interest and I just couldn't help reading more.
It was about a young girl named Samantha Maxime. She was seven years old when she was taken into care. She was taken into care because her parents had been killed by her father's alcoholic of a brother. His name was Edward and he lived with the girl and her parents. The report said he went out one night and got drunk. Very drunk. He came home and went into a violent rage. He killed the girl's parents but, as the girl was at a friends that night, not the girl. As Edward was her only living relative she had to be taken into care.
The report said how she never really got over the shock outwardly but wherever she went odd things happened. Often her carers died in mysterious circumstances. One couple were savaged by a pack of dogs. Another pair died when the boat they were on was deliberately crashed into the side of a cliff by the suicidal driver. Samantha herself died, prematurely, and it was attributed to all those losses by experts.
Reading that report gave me a worse case of the shivers than any ghost story I had ever read.
I put it back and drove home, wishing I could forget what I had read.
That night was the first night I had the dream.
I wasn't much of a dreamer. When I did dream it was usually just stupid little things like guys and dinner parties. It was quite a shock, therefore, to find myself in a forest and to somehow, instinctively know that this wasn't something I should take lightly.
The forest had a very sinister feel to it. I couldn't see beyond the first ring of trees. There was no sound and my breathing seemed intensified. Then, suddenly, I could hear sobbing that came from just beyond the ring of trees. I remember walking slowly towards it. It seemed to take forever and no time at all at the same time. When I stopped walking all I could see was a boulder with a small girl on top. Everything else faded to black. The girl was the one sobbing.
I remember desperately telling my dream self to turn away, to run and never look baxk. Of course it didn't listen,
"Are you ok?" my dream self asked,
The little girl threw back her head and howled at the sky. I'm never going to forget that sound which, considering I heard it in a dream, is pretty strange. It was a many layered thing, comprising of pain, loss, anger, frustration and a desire for revenge.
"Why did you do it Uncle Eddie? Why...?" she whispered to herself. She didn't make any sign to show she knew I was there. She had her back to me, so all I could see was the white dress she was wearing and her shiny black hair that was pulled up in a neat ponytail.
"Do what?" Dream-Me asked, despite me screaming at it not to. My concious mind knew exactly who that was but, in dreams, the subconcious rules.
The little girl turned around, very slowly. She was a horrible sight. Her eyes were jet black, her skin chalk white. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks yet her pencil eyebrows were pulled down in a frown and her top lip was curled in a viscious snarl. If that hadn't been terrifying enoug,h her hands, which she had clasped in front of her like she was praying, were coated in blood that was dripping steadily into her lap.
I screamed and tried to run but I couldn't move.
"I am young. You are old. I know not how to kill. You might never have killed but you know how to kill. You will enact my revenge upon Uncle Eddie and let me sleep peacefully. At last." the girl said. I knew who she was.
"Samantha..." I whispered,
The girl nodded once.
"Do it," she snarled at me.
To my great surprise I found myself agreeing... It felt like I didn't have a choice. The next morning I woke up and tried to convince myself it was just a nightmare. I knew it wasn't but that didn't stop me trying to convince myself. That dream scared me stupid.
Besides, I thought, I don't even know where Edward Maxime is right now... So how can I kill him?
Comforted by that thought I got out of bed to begin my day.
My day was ordinary. Work, home, bed.
Except I didn't go home.
I had just got a raise on my wages and it occured to me how nice it would be to spend a night in Luxury, the recently opened hotel in town, and have someone wait upon me for a change. So I went over there and booked a room for the night.
I settled down in the four poster bed and drew the hangings shut. I read the crime novel I had started a few weeks ago for a few hours but reading always made me drowsy and before long I was aslepp.
I dreamt of Samantha again that night.
"Well done. You are close." she said to me and smiled. It made her look so evil with those terrible eyes of hers.
"I don't understand," I replied with a shake of my head,
"No. Just do what I say. Room one-one-five. Uncle Eddie... For a long time you've run but now Samantha has you!" she cackled in triumph. For a young girl she sounded very bitter and far too angry. She was too young to sound like that. At least that's what I thought.
She turned her back on me. And she stayed that way for a very long time.
After what felt like eternity she turned back to me,
"Thank you," she said with a genuine smile. That one didn't look as bad. Her eyes had changed colour to sparkling blue, "He is dead and now I can sleep,"
And with that she closed her eyes and vanished,
I suddenly understood what had happened. I had killed a man... in my sleep. I was going to face murder charges and the excuse "A ghost girl made me do it" wasn't going to work. I knew I had to run.
Waking up, I turned away from the bed where a man lay and ran, out the room and out the hotel.
That's how I came to be here, in the warehouse I'm in. I grabbed a voice recorder from a nearby gadgetry store and ran to the warehouses down by the docks, not far from Luxury. I'm recording this and I'm going to hand myself over. I'm an honest person.
Please pass this on to those who know what to do with it. Thank you.

A/N:
Well... that was... interesting
Is anyone else feeling a little disturbed?
Anyways let me know what you thought :)

Aaron x