Again, I own nothing. If there are any mistakes, I'll fix them, don't worry.
She never told her parents where she was going the day that she left them forever, but Winnie had left them a note. What exactly was written, Winnie could not remember, but she made sure to reassure them that she would be fine, that nothing would or could happen to her. When Winnie had heard the news of her parents death some years later, she strangely felt happy for them. They were allowed to move on and die just as life had intended. But Winnie couldn't, her wheel was broken. She could no longer go backwards, or forwards. It was just still, stuck in both time and place.
She took up residence in the Tuck's house, and in all of her years of living there she hadn't changed a thing. The Tuck's belongings were in the same place they had been before they started running from the law. Winnie wanted it that way. If the Tucks ever did come back, this place would be familiar to them. Nothing else in this town had ever stayed the same, everything was constantly changing. But this place? This house had been preserved just like she had.
People rarely entered the woods these days. Stories of a ghost had circulated through the town a few years after Winnie left her parents for the second time. She had gone back once to see them. Not to talk with them, just look at them, even for a few scarce moments. She had gotten what she wanted, but a few men from town had witnessed her come out from the trees, looking the same way she did ten years prior. They found it fit to tell their friends and family what they had seen. Winnie was relieved that rather than looking for her, they concluded she was a lost spirit who haunted the woods which she loved dearly in life.
Winnie actually liked being a 'ghost'. She could walk along the border of the woods after sunset and admire the town as it slept. People had seen her on occasion, and each time a story was recorded and listed as one of the many sightings of the ghost of Winnie Foster. She even had plans to leave the woods, just for one day and parade down the sidewalks, smiling and nodding her head to passerby. Winnie would record the amount of time it take for people to realize the girl they had seen was not normal. How could she pass up something like that? She was famous around here, and the whole ghost thing was an unexpectedly good cover. It was too late to do it now though. Everyone was retiring into their homes and beds. There wouldn't be enough people to frighten, except for the few groups of teenagers that hang around the street corners until about midnight, when they scatter.
She marveled at how style and fashion had changed so drastically. Winnie would take jeans and tee-shirts over frilly dresses any day. People had changed as well, but not in quite as good of a way. There were a few rapes and murders. As far as rapes went, the most they had in a single year was four. And as for murders, there was at least one. Winnie did realize that Treegap's crime rate was significantly lower than most cities, but the thought still bothered her. Things used to be so simple. One could walk the streets at night alone and not have to think about getting raped or having your throat slit. The only murder she had ever seen was that of the man in the yellow suit. But that was different, it was self defense. Winnie feared that in a few years, things would become worse, but she often wondered why she worried so much. It wasn't like she could be killed, and as far as everyone else was concerned she was just a ghost.
Winnie had tried numerous times to kill herself, merely for amusement. She had once thrown herself over a rather steep cliff, tumbling downwards until she had hit the bottom and a rock had come in harsh contact with her skull. A few minutes later, she was on her feet, her head and the rest of her body in perfect condition. The only thing that was ruined was her dress.
On another occasion, Winnie made a makeshift basket with her dress, filling it with as many rocks as she could find. Once satisfied, she tied her dress around her waist to make sure the rocks wouldn't fall out and stared at the pond. She took a few deep breathes and started walking into the water until its depth surpassed her height. She sank slowly to the bottom, the rocks weighing her down and keeping her settled. Winnie patiently waited, having blacked out a few times, but she never died. She wouldn't die. After about an hour, she untied her dress and let the rocks fall to the bottom as she swam to the surface to make up a new plan.
Just a few weeks ago, she had gotten her hands on an old pistol she had found in Tuck's drawers and thought it would be amusing to experience being shot in the head. So, she cleaned it thoroughly and loaded it with a single bullet. When she finished, she reasoned the best place to do it would be outside the house, not wanting to make a huge mess. She sighed, cocking the gun and brought it up to her head. Winnie chuckled lightly right before she pulled the trigger. Not a scratch. No evidence at all that she had just been shot in the head. Winnie found this rather amusing, but saddened slightly as she had no one to tell the story to.
That was the main reason why Winnie played these death games. Loneliness. There was no one to talk to, or play with, or even say hello to. Just her. She often wondered if another teenager had ever watched her drink from the spring as she did Jesse, if she would let them drink it too. Winnie found that thought utterly selfish, and excused it from her mind. But still, she really did long for the company of another.
(Author's Note: Yeah, I know. It's kind of short. I'm going to try and make chapter two much longer than this. Don't forget to review!)
