The Girl with the Knife 🗡️ 4

Part Four — The Worst Part The girl stood in the doorway. The knife hung loosely from her tiny hand. Her mother stared at her as if she were looking at a ghost. But she wasn't looking at the girl. She was looking at her daughter. The older one. The girl slowly turned toward her mother. “What didn't you tell me?” Her mother shook her head. “Don't listen to her.” The little girl giggled. “She always says that.” “Who are you?” the girl demanded. The little girl tilted her head. “You know me.” “No, I don't.” The little girl smiled. “You used to call me Amy.” Her mother suddenly screamed. “STOP!” The little girl laughed. Then she disappeared. Just like that. The kitchen was empty. The knife hit the floor. CLANG. The girl stared at the place where the child had been standing. “Mum…” Her mother sank into a chair. Her hands were trembling. “She was your twin.” The girl froze. “My… twin?” “She was born first.” “Why don't I remember her?” Her mother looked at her. “Because you weren't supposed to.” The room went silent. Then her mother reached inside her clothes and pulled out a tiny silver necklace. A little pendant hung from it. She placed it on the table. The girl recognized it immediately. It was the necklace she had seen in her dreams. “You wore this?” Her mother shook her head. “Amy did.” “Then why do I have one?” Her mother's eyes filled with tears. “Because after she died…” She stopped. “What?” Her mother whispered: “You started talking to her.” The girl stared at her. “You were only two years old. You would sit alone in the corner and talk to someone nobody else could see.” Her mother swallowed. “You called her Amy.” A cold sensation crawled up the girl's spine. “And then?” Her mother looked toward the locked cupboard. “One morning, I found you holding a knife.” The girl looked down at her hands. “And Amy?” Her mother's voice broke. “She was standing behind you.” Silence. The girl slowly turned toward the kitchen doorway. Nothing. Then she heard a whisper beside her ear. “That's not the worst part.” She spun around. Nobody. Her mother was staring at her. Terrified. “Did you hear that?” Her mother shook her head. “Hear what?” The girl slowly looked toward the locked cupboard. The padlock was still there. But something had changed. Written across the cupboard door, in fresh red letters, were four words: SHE NEVER DIED. And from inside the cupboard came a soft giggle. “Your turn.” Five..........

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