Please before you read this, you need to read my other story Melanie, thanks.
After the untimely death of Melanie my other friend Beth was completely grief stricken, she was in an even worse state than me she could barely speak she was that depressed. Every day I would walk across town to her house to talk to her and see how she was, and every day she simply broke down and collapsed in my arms. I wasn't sure if she'd get through the event. After a week or two she started to make progress and as we were both sat on her bed, reminiscing about the times we used to share when she broke down again weeping into my shoulder when I saw a figure, a black figure standing in the doorway. As I looked at the figure it slowly drifted to the right, towards the staircase. When Beth eventually stopped crying I told her I was going for a drink.
I walked down the stairs in pursuit of the figure, when I saw it stood in the kitchen and when I looked into the black space where its face should have been and I felt utter despair, I fell to the floor, tears rolling down my face and I let out a scream of eternal depression and the figure disappeared.
Beth then fled down the stairs to see why I had screamed.
"What's wrong!" she asked.
"I saw, I saw... Never mind" I uttered smiling to myself.
Over the next few days Beth suddenly became much happier in herself; I couldn't help but think that it was something to do with the figure as if it was amplifying her negative energy.
Any comments appreciated.