A/N: Music is Cemetery Waltz by Two Steps From Hell. Play it!

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I shouldn't have let the ghost possess me.

The fingers of my right hand were wrapped around the hilt of a kitchen knife. I watched myself slowly plodding forward, nearing the beer-stained figure sprawled all over the mattress. I should have felt good about doing this -- death was what he deserved, after all.

Then why was I having second thoughts?

Think of what he did to you, Megan, the ghost in me whispered. Think.

I obeyed her instructions. I began to think, recalling the times he had beaten me senseless, holding nothing back although I was a girl less than half his weight. He would punch me until blue-black marks sprouted all over my body; he would kick me until I doubled over, unable to breathe at all; he would use the dreaded cane to spank me till bloody red lines in my skin emerged.

My scars ached. They ran all over my body, ugly, jagged lines which marred my once smooth skin. I usually wore long sleeves, so that I needn't look at the scars and invoke bitter memories within me. But now, I bared my arms to the world, to remind myself why I was wielding the knife, why I harboured so much hatred in my heart.

I remembered why I asked the ghost to kill him in the first place.

I know how you feel, Megan, she said softly. This is why I'm helping you. I need to find peace too, and the only way I can do it is by killing both our fathers.

But you said he's the reincarnation of your father, I projected the thought in my mind.

A reincarnation is the same person in a different form. She looked at my father's portly figure, noting the square jaw and hard lines in the face. The features were disturbingly similar to a man's in a vintage photograph I'd weeded out while exploring the wooden panels in this decrepit flat.

That was her father, she'd told me. The father who'd abused her, neglected her, starved her after her mother died. The father who never took up his responsibilities. The father who refused to face reality and man up to the situation.

The father who was like mine.

I felt my resolve turning into steel. He deserved it. Deserved death, and probably more than that, for what he did to us. Unlike Yun Mei though, I didn't actually have the guts to finish him off. Besides, she needed to slip that blade between his ribs, watch as the light in his eyes died out, observe his body going limp and lifeless. Otherwise she'd never move on to the next world and leave me for good.

He killed my mother. And he killed yours. Take me, and do what needs to be done. I sensed Yun Mei's delight at my words, and I heard her release a maniacal laughter through my lips.

Before I knew it, we were standing before him, looming over his frame like the Grim Reaper himself. I saw my free hand reaching out, shaking my father by the shoulder. I grew confused. He was waking up! What was Yun Mei planning for him?

Don't think about it, I told myself.

He instantly jolted awake, spewing vulgarities and swinging out a wild fist to connect with my face. With inhuman speed, Yun Mei guided my hand to catch his arm. He tried to wrest out of her iron grip, but failed. He finally noticed the knife in the other hand. An imminent sense of doom veiled his expression -- he knew what was going to happen.

"Zhi Hui, what are you doing?" he asked anyway. Zhi Hui. Wisdom. My given name. The name Mother had given me. The name I went by before...everything. I hadn't heard it in so long; a wave of shock rippled throughout my body. These days, he only addressed me by 'Ah Girl'. Until today, that is.

Blood red lips. Beautiful dark hair. Fair skin growing unnaturally pale. An image of my mother when she was dying suddenly flashed in my mind. She and Father had been arguing about his gambling debts, and about the loan sharks who came frequenting us. Then, in a fit of rage, he stabbed her.

With the very kitchen knife I now held.

After the deed was done, he wailed and wailed, yet refused to call for an ambulance, opting to mope in a corner like any baby would instead. I remembered my small frame crouching right beside her, unsteady fingers working uselessly to staunch the wound. Unfortunately, the knife had hit a vital spot, and no amount of first aid could help her. She understood. I'd seen the hollow look in her eyes.

She smiled at me despite the fact that Death was staring at her right in the face.

"Please take care of your father, Zhi Hui," she said, voice barely a whisper above the wind. "Promise me."

I could taste the saltiness of my tears. I was only eight then, a little girl terrified and helpless to act. I remembered being suddenly thrust into the cold reality that I was going to be alone in the world, without my mother beside me. It was just tiny me against the brutalities of life in my own house.

Still I said, "I promise." Her lips lifted at the corners, relieved. She took one last shuddering breath before fading out of existence.

Megan? Yun Mei called out to me. Are you okay?

She must had sensed the rising apprehension in me. I snapped myself back into the present, with Father still staring at me with wide, fearful eyes. Eyes that I imagined were a mirror of mine when I was by Mother's side that fateful day.

Promise me. I had been keeping my promise up until now. I pulled off shifts, worked myself like a dog and did everything I could to keep him alive. And what did I get in return? More beatings, constant blames for not being able to repay the loan sharks.

Promise me. Mother's last words echoed in my head, a consistent hammering that wouldn't go away. I had kept my promise. But good would only be repaid with evil. Now it was time to return the favour.

I felt Yun Mei still keeping a tight hold on me; she didn't dare to give me the slightest bit of control over myself. Her presence was suffocating, constricting me to bend to her will. I tolerated it -- I needed her to kill him.

Promise me.

My will faltered. It was as though I was abruptly jerked out of a bad dream. All this, everything leading up to this, was a hallucination. However, Yun Mei was still holding the knife, leaning in to say, "You deserve this death, and a thousand more." She raised the knife; my father didn't flinch.

No!

I screamed in my head, throwing Yun Mei off guard. I wrestled for control, fighting to take back my body. She fought back almost immediately. A tempest raged within me, only reflected by the sudden choking noises I made and the spasms of my limbs.

What are you doing? she shrieked. You promised! You agreed!

I take that promise back, I snarled back.

She gave an ear-splitting shriek in my head. I gritted my teeth -- at least I had some measure of control over myself -- and tried my best to force my will upon her. To force her out of my head. To force her out of my life forever.

"Get out!" I screamed. I regained control over one side of my body; I probably looked like I was having a stroke right now.

No! In one last burst of desperation, I felt Yun Mei clamping her will over me. I lost the little control I had; I was shoved to retreat to the farthest corner of my own mind. I watched in horror as Yun Mei locked her eyes onto my father. The room felt a lot chillier than it had been before.

She wouldn't hesitate this time.

With a roar, she lunged for my father with the knife. He grappled with her, fighting her monstrous strength with his own. Yun Mei snarled in annoyance at the amount of resistance the man was showing, and released another cry of rage. My father knew that he would die today, but that didn't mean he would give up without a fight.

It was awful, not being able to do anything. It wouldn't be half as horrible if I weren't aware that I was being possessed. Unfortunately, I was aware. And I would be seeing my own hands stained with red today.

Yet I still prayed, I still hoped -- I silently begged for my father to embrace the demon residing within him, to knock me out and render me senseless. For the first time in many, many years, I was actually supporting him.

The wet sound of steel meeting flesh filled the air.

My father suddenly gagged and coughed, and dark red flowers bloomed all over my blouse. Yun Mei's eyes travelled to his blubbery neck, where the hilt of the knife was protruding out. The light in his eyes faded, like how Mother's had ten years ago.

He slumped back onto the mattress.

Yun Mei sighed in satisfaction; I held back a whimper. Thank you, she breathed.

I felt her leaving me.

I sank onto my knees, my dark hair wild and matted with sweat and falling across my line of vision. I raised my hands. They were dyed with a dark red colour; they were regarding me with contempt, hissing at me, accusing me of being the murderer that I was. I tore my eyes away from my condemning hands, and towards the lifeless figure sprawled across the mattress. A realisation hit me like a spray of bullets.

I was a murderer.

I was a murderer.

I had betrayed Mother.

I was a murderer.

As if I were in a bad dream, I hauled myself onto my feet shakily. I wasn't being possessed by Yun Mei anymore, but I was still observing myself move anyway. My feet shuffled, moving towards the washroom. My hands stuck themselves under the tap, scrubbing a mixture of maroon and magenta away. The colours swirled in the water, spiralling into nothingness.

Everything was a blur after that. I vaguely recalled Father's body being left where it was, me tripping over the bags of groceries I'd bought for him on the way out. Then I emerged into the fading sunlight, the cutting wind, and everything became clear.

I was a murderer.

I hoped the passers-by wouldn't notice the crazed look I had in my eyes, a look I was sure was present on me. I stuffed my hands into my pockets, as if it could hide the stains that wouldn't come off, as if it could wash away the guilt. I started to walk to the nearest bus station, trying to appear as cool and inconspicuous as possible.

Something seized my legs.

I couldn't move, no matter how I tried to. It wasn't because my brain felt fuzzy anymore. It was because --

Hello, a familiar voice greeted me in my head.

A sickening wave of apprehension crashed over me. You, I hissed. I thought you were gone for good!

Poor girl, you should know better than to strike deals with ghosts...She tut-tutted with an almost pitying chord to her tone.

What is it you haven't told me?

My lips lifted at the corners, but it was Yun Mei who was smiling. You have blood on your hands. You are now no longer entitled to truly live as yourself, and thus, you have opened yourself to me...

No. No, this couldn't be happening! I killed my father for you, and this is how you repay me? I screamed.

Yun Mei laughed through my lips -- a laughter so sinister and inhuman that it drew the worried stares of passers-by. You were wrong, Zhi Hui. I never had a father who killed me. I killed my father.

Zhi Hui. What an ironic name for me, to be named after Wisdom when I had none at all. I should have known better than to make dealings with ghosts.

And now, your body is mine. Shock rammed into me like a factory bus rumbling along the highway at full speed. Yun Mei was going to possess me once more. For good, this time.

My mind went blank.

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A/N: This was actually pretty fun to write. I'm terrible at short stories, so I definitely needed the practice. Anyway, please remember to vote, comment, share and recommend!

P.S. If you're curious what the names look like in Mandarin Chinese, here they are:

Yun Mei -- 芸美

Zhi Hui -- 智慧