Her nails scratched at the dry earth, her fingers captured and strangled by the long grass. Her eyes wept the tears that made tiny people streams between cracks and crevices in the ground.

As Anne committed a gathering of thoughts, the answers were none the clearer. She had killed the girl who had threatened her family. The girl who know one had seen or heard of. The persecuted had become the persecutor, unknown to all but her.

The events that had taken place that night, poured out of her like an ocean wave searching for a flat calm. She had told the story to all who would listen, but not one would believe.

Anne had been upstairs in the attic looking for her box of old dressing up clothes when she heard the sounds of someone else present. The girl was sat in the corner of the room and had disturbed a nesting of spiders. Her face covered in dust and spiders crawling around her hands, as if tracing out their web to hold her down. Anne had felt a familiarity between herself and the girl, that they had known each other for a long time. She felt no fear as one would from an intruder in their home.

The girl did not acknowledge her at first, but wore a blank expression on her face, as if she were the only person there. When the girl woke from her haze, she addressed Anne with anger.

" I'd kill them all if I could. Spiders in my web. A whole family, dissolved in my head, a head of spiders."

The feelings of rage overcame Anne at the words that she feared would become actions in a short space of time. The girl rose from her corner propelled by an icy cold air that rose the hairs on the back of Anne's hands, as if willing them to take action. The girl moved in a motion as graceful as an angel, but her intentions were far from angelic.

Behind Anne was an old dresser which had been her Grandfathers. of which he had kept a letter opener in the top draw. A deadly weapon now uncomfortably taking its place in Anne's left hand, and ready to kill.

As the girl lunged at her, Anne wielded the blade deeply into the girls chest, and just kept on puncturing her, until her whining came to a whimper. She fell to the floor silent. Her body not expelling a single droplet of blood.

In shock and disbelief, Anne's body decided to get the hell out of there. It ran towards the entrance as if the girl were still in pursuit, and secured the trap door behind it.

Anne now lay still on her bed, wishing she could find sleep and loose the nightmare.

" Anne, your bleeding."

Anne had looked around the room, but found know one to match the voice. She had been alone, but had heard it clearly.

She sat up feeling uncomfortably wet, The white linen bed covers, now the colour of a good claret but not of the drinking kind.