Like hell and high lightning

The lightning struck me while I was walking home from work. I never thought lightning could actually strike people. I thought it was just a trope seen on television and movies. But there I was, lying sprawled on the side of the road, steam rising from my body. It didn't kill me, as I had expected lightning would, but rather knocked me out for a while. My life had been in a rut as of recently, so I had prayed for something to restart it. This was not what I had in mind.

I awoke, at what must have been a few hours later, as the sun had begun to set. My eyes shot open and, groaning, I surged forward, a true frankensteinian creature. It all would’ve looked surreal to passers by. If there were any. I had the unfortunate luck of being hit by lightning on a deserted street. I guess being hit by lightning itself was also unfortunate. I eventually decided that I would probably need to go to hospital. And it was on the way that I saw her.

She was small and young, probably around 16, and she was wearing a light floral summer dress that was drenched in dark blood. She stood at the foot of a grand oak tree, and was looking up at a squirrel perched within its branches, seemingly unbothered by her unusual appearance. I approached cautiously, unsure of whose blood she was covered in.

“Excuse me...are you alright?” I asked timidly. She lowered her head but wouldn't turn to look at me, “...miss?” I reached out and tapped her shoulder but got a shockingly cold current run up my arm, forcing me to jump back abruptly. I swore at the pain of the electricity dancing in my fingertips and looked up to find her staring at me. It wasn’t fear in her eyes, but curiosity. She had a long almond shaped face and petit features, with fierce golden eyes that had white lightning strikes exploding from the iris’, her hair was a smooth deep brown that ran in perfect rivers down past her shoulders and bruises that matched perfectly on each forearm. Her neck had a long cut across the base and a mess of dried blackened blood all down her front. I couldn’t believe that she had survived whatever had happened to her. I heard an engine noise in the distance and turned to see a car approaching us, I waved my arms, flagging down the attention of the driver, who slowed down and looked straight at me with a concerned expression. He was an elderly gentleman with a short salt and pepper beard and kind eyes.

“Ya’ll right there lil’ lady?” he drawled, in his southern accent, only addressing me. Bemused I responded

“Yes I am but i’m not sure what has happened” I responded rather bemused, gesturing towards the girl standing two feet to my left, drenched in blood. The man in the truck looked to the tree for a bit and then back at myself.

“What happ’nd with what?” he asked before leaning out of his truck again to look around further. I realised that he couldn't see the girl. The shock hit me like a punch in the stomach. But I pulled myself together and thought it best to not mention that I was seeing things, unless I wanted to get locked in an institution.

“Nevermind...it doesn’t matter”, waving him off, “sorry for bothering you!” I added lightly.

“No bother, just glad you’re ok. You have a nice day now ma’am” he chuckled to himself. He then began to drive away, his country music blasting as he went. I turned once again to the girl.

“Why couldn’t he see you?” I asked sceptically.

“I think the question should be: why can you see me?” she replied, her voice rough and cracked. She smiled humorlessly and stepped closer to me. I reached out and touched her again, and was met by the same sharp, cold, shock that had accompanied contact with her before. She looked down where I touched her and then back at myself with an eyebrow raised.

“Sorry...I just had to check that you were actually there. You are actually there right?” I feared that the lightning had frazzled my brain, fried it a bit too far.

“Yes and no. See….I’m dead.” she gave little jazz hands along with her revelation and then waited patiently, her face fixed on mine, scanning for a reaction. A bubble rose within my throat and burst out as a monumental laugh that was both unexpected and uncontainable. Once it was out I could seemingly no longer suppress it and I stood bent over laughing maniacally for a few minutes before it began to subside.

“Sorry, I am not laughing at you I promise..it’s just...it’s just that that is ridiculous,” I gasped, flummoxed by the very thought of her being dead yet standing very much alive in front of me.

“Ridiculous might not be the word that I would choose..perhaps shitty, or unfair, or a level of bullshit fuckery unbeknownst to the world?” She grew angrier the more she talked and the slit in her throat seeped when she raised her raspy voice.

“What happened?” I burst out, unable to hold my curiosity any longer.

“It was my dad. I came home one summer evening and went to my room. Then in the middle of the night he crept into my room, slit my throat, and blamed it on an intruder. The police believed his story and he got away with it.” She looked down at her feet blinking tears furiously from her eyes.

“But why? Why would a father do that to his own daughter?” I couldn’t comprehend the very idea of it.

“Because I was the only one who knew his deepest, darkest secret. And now you’re going to help me bring it to the light”. She announced mischievously, looking back up to myself, her eyes glinting with malice.