*Myra is the mother of a girl named Samara. Both are from my “Ghost house” stories. Gacha Club character designs are on my wall. I hope that you enjoy!*
In the 1960s, there was a woman named Myra Robinson. She had a daughter named Samara Robinson, who was only five years old.
Myra seemed to live a simple life.
At least, that's what she wanted everyone, including her daughter, to think.
How to say it? The thing that she was keeping a secret? Hmm..
Let's just say she had a friend-her name was Diana-who was..poor and on the last day of every month, she'd give this friend-Diana-some money.
How much money did she give her friend? The price is unknown, but it was enough for someone to get their life together. Was this even legal? Probably not, but Myra didn't care. Anything for those she loved.
Of course, the arrangement wouldn't last, because she needed that money too, to take care of herself and her daughter .She'd had to put a stop to it, even if she didn't want to.
.......................................................................
One day, Myra met up with Diana, in Diana's small, ramshackle excuse of a house and had a heart-to-heart with her.
"Diana, it's getting to the point where I can't give you money anymore. Don't forget, I have a life, too. I need to take care of myself and Samara. I..I can't help you. I'm sorry."
"What? But we're friends! You'd said you help me, no matter what."
"I did, didn't I? Not all promises can be kept."
"Please, Myra. I need you. I don't know what I'd do without you. Please."
“Please?"
"I-I said no."
"Please?"
"No. Goodbye and good luck, Diana."
Before Myra could change her mind, she ran out of Diana's door, her choice made.
.........................................................................
Sometime later, Myra received a letter. The letter read as followed:
Myra-
I'm going to cut to the chase here. Give me the money or your child dies. Do it.
-Do I even need to sign this?
She could have told the police about it, but that would mean she'd have to come clean about what she was doing with Diana too and that wouldn't end well .Besides, who would listen to a rambling, anxious mother?
Hopefully, Diana didn't mean what she wrote in the letter. Maybe it was just her anger getting to her. She'd never have the guts to kill anyone, right?
Right?
"Samara?”
"Yes, Mommy?"
"Be careful. Very careful."
"Why?"
"Just listen to what I say."
"But-"
"Samara-"
"Why?”
"Because I'm your mother and I said so."
"Okay, fine."
.........................................................................
One night, Myra heard a knock on the front door.
Who would be visiting so late at night?
Maybe, if she'd open the door and told them to go away, she'd have some peace.
Myra sleepily walked up to the front door and wished she'd never opened it.
Standing before her was Diana, in an orange cloak, with a...what was that dazzling tool in her hands?
"A...knife." Myra said.
Diana smiled and pulled Myra to her chest, where she held the knife to Myra's neck and locked her in an iron grip.
“Diana...don't do this. Let me go." Myra pleaded. Was Diana really doing it? Was she really going to kill her?
"No."
"Diana?"
"No."
"Please?"
"That's what I begged you. What did you do? You left me in the dark! I say we're getting equal treatment." Diana said.
"You call this equal treatment? Diana, let me go now!" Myra yelled. She wasn't having it with her. Why couldn’t Diana just accept that she couldn’t help her?
From the open door, she could see Samara running in the halls, towards the racket they were making.
Oh great. Samara was coming.
Myra watched as her child noticed them and held back tears from Samara's horrified expression on Myra's state.
"I told you to give me the money or you and your child dies! I said it clearly in the letter!" Diana yelled. Well, off to a great start! She thought that maybe Diana would have the decency to leave Samara out of this, but no.
"And I told you that you should earn money by working, not by asking me for money. Samara..don't listen to her. Call help. Then, you RUN. Do you understand me?!" Myra yelled.
Maybe Myra couldn't be saved, but perhaps Samara could.
"What about you?" She asked.
"Don't worry about me, just RUN! NOW!" Myra yelled.
Samara ran, ran as fast as she could. Good. She didn't need to witness the horror which was about to happen.
Wait...what was that sharp thing in her chest? That stinging pain...
Myra looked down…
The knife that Diana had, lodged deep in her chest.
Funny how death came so sudden and when one least expected it.
.........................................................................
Myra woke up in her house, in Samara's bedroom.
Now, why was she in Samara's room?
Then, she remembered that she was dead and her spirit was most likely sent there.
But why Samara's room?
"Mommy! Mommy!" She heard a child's cry.
Myra turned around.
She knew she had no blood, since she was dead, but somehow, Myra's blood went cold.
There was Samara, bleeding and weak. She had black, drooping angel wings and a dim halo.
Samara ran over to her and hugged her tightly. Myra held the little girl close to her chest. If it were possible, she'd hold Samara forever.
"Samara?! What happened to you?! I told you to get help and then RUN! Didn't I say that?! Why are you.."
She couldn't bear to finish the sentence.
"Dead?! Mommy, I tried! Really, I did! But...the mean lady caught me and she...she...it was so horrible, Mommy! She killed me! She.." Samara started crying into her dress.
"Shh..it's okay, Samara. You're here, with me now. I'm going to protect you, the way I wish I could have been able to then. I'll find the mean lady and make her pay. I'll keep you safe. I promise."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Okay..Mommy, I have another question. Why do you look like a demon?"
Myra stood up and looked at Samara's mirror. She did look like a demon. A shadowy demon, with white, glowing eyes and a white, glowing mouth.
How much could she tell Samara? Did she even know why she looked like this?
Myra knew why. It was okay to tell her, because it was the truth and Samara wouldn't understand, anyway. Besides, she was tired of lying to the one joy in her life-afterlife, now.
"It's because I'm sad beyond your understanding. That was a friend, you see. She's going to steal our money because she has none. She killed us and now she's going to fake her identity, pretend she's family, so she can have the money and be "The last member of our family who is alive." You don't understand and that's okay. I'll get back at her."
That was what Myra believed would happen after their deaths.
No matter what, she'd make Diana pay.
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