Disclaimer: Not mine and never will be.

AN- YesI realize that this chapter is very short and I am sorry. It is sort of a background, orient yourself with the story chapter soI feel that it is nessesary to the plot of the story.

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My death was an accident. Well that's what the police told my parents. While I was alive I worked as the bartender for the Locked Box Bar in Modesto California. It paid well plus by boss was the best I had ever had the privilege of working for. I became friends with all the regulars. They were all nice and one guy even offered to fix my car for half price. But there was this one man who creeped me out. Every night he would come in like clock work. Three beers, two shots of vodka and a glass of gin were his order. By the end of that he would be smashed beyond recognition and the bouncer would assist his sorry ass out the door. Then he went home muttering drunken curses the whole way. Except for one night.

I had just finished closing up for the night and had said good-bye to Jerry, the Thursday night bouncer. The man slammed unto me right when I reached my car. Before I could do anything he pulled a knife out and my blood was wetting the asphalt. It took me a minute to realize that I was floating. When sense kicked in I looked down and screamed. Well as much of a scream that a spirit can put out. There I was laying their two slash marks across my neck blood pooling under me. I can tell you that was not what I had expected when I had arrived to work that morning. The man had vanished but a few minutes of drifting found him at his house. I will tell you one thing I was not the only person loosing their life that night. I hate to say it but I saw a women (presumably his wife) burying a very shiny blood streaked butcher knife in his chest over and over again. Can't say I was sad either. But one person was. In the middle of this extremely gross slaughtering of wasted space I noticed a girl about 13 years old watching from a slightly opened doorway. The look on her face was enough to cause even Hades to weep if he had been there.

She was sent to a foster home soon after the police came. All she was allowed to take with her was a change of clothes and a paper that said on it

Sara Anne Sidle

Meaning/Origin

Sara- Princess/Hebrew

Anne- Gracious/Hebrew

Birthday- April 15

I know for a fact that she still has that paper with her today. I also know that she cried herself to sleep that first night. And every night after it for a long time.