I can hear my grandmother's ghost singing at night.
It's always when I can't sleep, shivering under the covers and thinking, 'It could have been me.' The understanding of my survival burrows deep into my bones, an ache that will never leave me. If I listen past the weak voice of my grandmother, that horrid sound breaks through: the constant dripping of water on cold stone, so cold and empty and --
-- I'm trapped again, fighting against the current, I'm not the true sacrifice, please! --
My grandmother's ghost keeps singing. I pretend to sleep for another night.
i read a lot of horror recently so here ya go. also im gonna write one more thing for this comp about girls so im gonna need to know which would be better for me to submit