Murder of the Blue Lady

A blue mist formed in front of eight year-old Joey McDaniels and began to take shape. Joey could see the outline of a woman. She couldn’t see the woman’s face, but she knew it would be beautiful. The woman floated toward her, stopped and extended her hand. In an icy voice she said, “I was murdered. Help me end this pain.”
Joey’s breath came in rapid gasps as she pressed her back against the tree. Trembling uncontrollably, she cried. “NOOOO!”