Without her there…there was a lot of space. Maybe that was why she liked the way she felt when she visited the cemetery. It was

Without her there…there was a lot of space. Maybe that was why she liked the way she felt when she visited the cemetery. It was familiar.

Erica leaned over and kissed the gravestone one last time. She felt that jolt of electricity coursing through her, that piece of evil that seemed to come from Madeline. She had always understood Madeline’s hatred because she felt the same way. She had just never done anything about it. At least until the day of the accident. No, they were not so different, were they?

As Erica turned to leave, another bolt of lightning bent the sky white and purple. Just at that moment, she swore she saw a hand reach out of the ground, grab her ankle and yank her. When the darkness enveloped her again, she saw she had only tripped over her own two feet. There was nothing there. No hand sticking out of the ground, no ruptured earth.

Still, Erica was shaken. She scurried out of the cemetery, her heart pounding in a way it hadn’t in a whole year. The entire time, she continued to look over her shoulder, expecting to see Madeline. She swore she heard her chortling behind her, but as she reached her car, she realized it was only the thunder. She thought about the day recently, when she’d tripped heading down the front steps of the house, how she’d sworn she felt a hand shove her from behind. There was no one there though, and she had chalked it up to needing her morning coffee more than she realized.

Now though, Erica wondered. Wouldn’t that be just like the maniacal, manipulative, psychotic Madeline to be able to cause trouble from beyond the grave? She quickly shook her head, as if to clear that thought away. This was just PTSD from years of abuse, left-over trauma from what she’d done. It was not Madeline.

As she threw the car in reverse to turn around and hightail out of the cemetery, she remembered that day in all of its vividness, and she knew she’d done the right thing. There was only so much Madeline could do anymore, being dead and all. Erica was glad she was dead! She was glad she was the one who made it happen. Madeline wasn't the only one who was maniacal, manipulative, psychotic.

No, they were not so different, after all.