This is a piece a wrote ages ago, but figured I'd revisit it.  

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A young girl sat calmly on a tombstone.  Her long raven hair swayed lightly in a soft, chilling early evening breeze.  She stared at the black wrought iron gate of the cemetery for a long moment as she quietly hummed an eerie lullaby.

A large crow fluttered down on the gate.  Perched for a moment and looked directly into the girl’s eyes, then fluttered to a nearby aged tree that was gnarled and twisted from years of watching over the dead souls who lie beneath.  The crow stared at the girl once more, then in a flutter of wings took off into the brilliant orange sky.  The young girl stood and casually walked out of the cemetery, still humming the lullaby.  She walked to an apartment and went inside to find an older woman cooking.

“Anna?  Is that you honey?” the woman called.

The girl walked into the kitchen without a word, then silently retreated to her darkened room.

“That child . . . she's so strange . . .” the woman muttered as she carried on.

In her room, Annabell Thanato was writing in a black book with leather bindings.  In an ornate, curling scroll, she wrote:

Marcus Austen Tollings

Then she crossed his name out and closed the book and replaced it on her shelf.

Several years later, the same girl sat in a Calculus class, silent and not bothering to pay attention.  “Annabell, come solve number thirty-seven on the board.” the calculus teacher, Mr. Burkins asked.

Wordlessly, Annabell solved the problem flawlessly, then returned to her seat.

“Thank you Annabell,” Mr. Burkins smiled.  He thought he must be doing something right if even one of his students understood.

Anna was a rare sort.  Where other students, even the most advanced, struggled, she excelled.  She never had a question, but always found an answer.  Not just in Calculus either, in every single one of her classes.  She either terrified or creeped out her fellow classmates.  She also tended to ignore everyone, unless asked a direct question.  While others wouldn't consider her to be mean, she wasn’t deemed friendly either.  She simply was apathetic towards everyone and everything.

The class bell rang and everyone shuffled out.

“Thanks for making us look bad, freak!” a girl with bleach blonde hair, too much make-up, and overly revealing clothes sneered.  Lisa Jones.

Anna simply ignored her and kept walking.

“I’m talking to you, freak!”

Again Anna ignored her.

“Don’t ignore me, bitch!” Lisa ran up to her and swung her loose fist at the back of Anna’s head. Swiftly, Anna spun around and caught Lisa’s fist and bent it back slightly, not enough to cause her any harm, just enough to cause pain.

“I suggest you walk away while you still can,” Anna warned, her voice was soft, dark, and harsh as her eyes flashed dangerously.  Anna then pushed Lisa back to her gaggle of friends.

“Freak.” Lisa repeated.  “You saw her, she attacked me!  I think she broke my wrist!”

One of the teachers heard the commotion and came out.  “What’s all the fuss about?  Miss Jones?” he asked.

“Mr. Clarkson!  That girl!  Annabell!  She attacked me!” Lisa accused, pointing an uninjured finger at her.

“Miss Thanato, is that true?” Mr. Clarkson asked.

Anna said nothing, she only stared the Mr. Clarkson in the eyes.

“Very well, both of you, down to the dean’s office.  He led them to the dean’s office where the dean’s interrogated the girls, and being as how Lisa’s hand was slightly bruised and swollen, and she was laying it on thick, she was let off the hook, scot free.  While, being as how Anna refused to say a word, she ended up with a three day suspension. 

After her parents were called, Anna was sent home.  Once there, she opened up the black book with leather bindings and sighed.  “So she is next, it seems she has altered my list.” Anna muttered quietly.  “Pity . . .”

Anna placed the book back on its shelf and changed.  Anna walked silently down to the highway, there was a four car pile up, and no one seemed to notice her nonchalant walk towards the wreckage.  She walked up to a totaled red truck.  She looked in through the driver’s side window and noticed a boy of about seventeen.  His right arm was out of socked and the bleeding mass that was the lower portion of his arm was also shattered with bits of bone protruding from the skin.  His head was bleeding profusely from just above his temple and his lower half was completely crushed from where the steering console and the front end of the truck had impounded.  The boy was unconscious, but breathing.  Anna placed two fingers on his forehead for a long moment until his breathing stopped.  Then Anna returned home and wrote in her ornate, curling script:

Jason Adam Link

Again, she crossed his name out and flipped to the back of her book as she saw the same name fade from the top of the page as the rest of the names moved up.  Anna smirked as she saw the next name on the list:

Lisa Marie Jones

Anna walked to the student parking lot where Lisa and her friends smoked everyday after school.  Sure enough, within a few minutes, she and her friends came out to the parking lot just as the school busses pulled out.  None of them seemed to even see Anna as she walked up to Lisa who was trying to light up, just as she was, Anna touched the lighter.  Flames shot up about six inches and Lisa dropped the lighter. 

“Ow!  Damn it!”  Lisa cursed after she realized she’d burned her fingers.  “Anyone else got a light?” One of her friends held out a lit lighter as Anna touched Lisa’s cigarette.    Lisa lit up and took two drags before she started choking on the smoke.  Anna watched amused as her friends slapped her back, then laughed as she finally got over her choking fit.  Shortly afterward, Lisa and her friends got into their cars, Lisa driving one of her friends home, and as they were pulling out of the student parking lot, a cyclist darted in front of the bus, which swerved to miss the cyclist, but flipped onto its side crushing the driver’s side of Lisa’s car, nearly killing her.  Anna waltzed over to the wreckage and placed two fingers on Lisa’s forearm which was sticking out as a bloodied mess, while her friend was shrieking at the top of her voice, miraculously only receiving minor injuries.  Lisa’s heart stopped and Anna left the scene as nonchalant as ever while sirens blared in the distance.

Anna then returned home and went to write Lisa’s name in the book when she found the woman who took care of her reading the names over and over again as the six o’clock news was telling of a car crash where seventeen-year-old Jason Link was killed, and breaking news of a girl killed in a bus accident identified by her passenger as Lisa Jones.

“Anna?  What is this?” the woman, Naomi Peterson, asked terror present in her voice.  Naomi Peterson was the woman who adopted Anna when she was an infant and had taken care of her with her husband, Edward, for the past sixteen and a half years.  “Anna, how can you explain this?  These names, this list in the back?  That girl from school, her name is here too!  Anna why do you have a list of dead people?”

Anna stared at Naomi.

“Anna, please tell me why you have a list of dead people.”

“I asked you not to go into my room.  I asked you to leave my things alone.  Why didn’t you listen?” Anna asked calmly.  She knew that if Naomi asked too many questions and pried too deeply, again today her list would be altered.

“Anna . . . tell me why.”

“I’m sorry things have to be this way.” Anna whispered as she stepped forward.  “I do appreciate all that you and Edward have done for me, and I am sorry for this, but you have gone too deep.”  Anna reached up and placed two fingers on Naomi’s forehead and she clutched her chest.  Anna watched as the woman stumbled out of her room and towards the phone.  Anna let her fall and let her die.  Then she took the book from her not yet cold, dead fingers and returned to her room to write two new names in her book, checked her next name and went on her way.  

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Not my best, but feedback is always appreciated.  Please vote and comment!  <3