Inner Demon

This is a part of my short story for creative writing. I'm looking for advice on how I can make this even more interesting. I'm also looking for your opinion on this.

“My uncle. He’s dead on my floor! ”
Sky exclaimed, tears starting to blur her vision. She was at a complete loss on who would want to kill him. Did someone break in and stab him? Did her uncle forget to lock the door again? The elderly elf gently placed his thin and scrawny fingers grasping her shoulders in an attempt to comfort the distraught woman. Sky looked at him and whispered, “Who would have killed him?”
“My dear I would tell you if I knew. However I can assure you we will figure this out.”
Sky tried to crack a smile at this but the grief was still too fresh in her mind. Instead she chose to ask how he planned to find out. When she asked he just gave a cryptic smile and told her not to worry. He also told her to go home and rest. Sky nodded, trusting his judgment and headed home slowly. Her mind was trying to find a way to deal with the death of her uncle. The rest of her walk was silent save for the gentle breeze caressing her pristine white hair and the occasional rustling of the wind passing through the leaves.
She hesitantly entered her home and sighed. She really didn’t want to touch his body or the blood on and around him but she couldn’t just leave his body there. He needed to be put where he had loved to be which was near the forest behind the house. Locating an already dirty rag and a bucket of water she knelt and proceeded to clean her uncle’s blood. She then carefully dragged his body outside and placed it near the edge of the forest. She closed her eyes and listened to the nature sounds around. Sky waited awhile before she went inside and quickly glanced at the mirror. Her reflection seemed to be grinning wickedly at her. She blinked twice and stared at her reflection. It mirrored her perfectly now. Shrugging, she continued to walk to her kitchen.
She took care of the dishes as her mind wandered about her uncle. She remembered his serene face, his laugh when she messed up cooking, and most of all she would miss the way he picked her up as if she was still a child. Sky let out a small laugh as she fondly remembered that. She started crying, knowing those moments would never happen again. Dropping the dish in the sink, she sank to her knees and let herself weep over his death.
It was late in the afternoon when she managed to stop crying and drag herself halfway to her room when there was a knock at her door. Turning to face it she walked over to the oak door and asked, “Who is it? I’m not in the mood for visitors.”
“It is me, Elder Isengrove.”
Sky opened the door hastily and let him in. He hobbled over to the couch and sat down. She sat down next to him with hope he had made progress on who had murdered her beloved uncle. When she noted the tired air about him, her shoulders drooped in despair. She had a hunch he had not had much luck. Elder Isengrove noticed this and spoke softly to her.
“My dear, do not despair. Something may yet turn up.”
“I hope so. I-I don’t want that killer to get away with this.”
Sky stuttered when she spoke in an attempt to not burst out in tears again. The elder gently patted her back to comfort her then said, “Whoever did this will not get away with it. I promise.”
Sky could only nod as she showed him to the door. Alone once more on her home, she wandered into her room and slept a less peaceful slumber. Her dreams were rather odd. She was facing her mirror in her dreams and her reflection was talking to her.
“You know how Uncle Dragonis died don’t you?” her reflection asked with a toothy grin.
“He was murdered….” Sky replied timidly.
“Oh yes he was. I know who killed him too,” her reflection stated laughing.
“But you’re me. How could you know if I don’t?” Sky asked puzzled now.
“How indeed?” Her reflection said smirking.
Sky was about to reply when a loud noise startled her back into reality. Grumbling she dragged herself out of bed and heard the knocking on the door. She opened the door and looked to see who had knocked on her door so early in the morning. It turned out to be the elder once again. He had a cheerful twinkle in his eyes as he entered her abode.
“I have asked around the village and have obtained information on who could have murdered your uncle.”
“You have?” Sky eagerly asked.
Elder Isengrove looked out the windows and pulled the curtains shut. Smiling he dropped his voice a few octaves and said, “I found a knife hidden in the brush just outside the village. The killer must have dropped it in a rush while leaving.”
Then he took the knife out from underneath his robe and showed the knife to her. Sky stared with wide eyes at the knife still stained in blood. Her face contorted in anger as she thought about how carelessly the killer had gotten rid of evidence as if killing her uncle had been nothing more than a whim. Elder Isengrove noticed the anger in her face and hid the dagger back under his robe then said, “I think we shall continue this tomorrow. I doubt the killer is in the village at this moment. Rest easy.”
“I cannot rest easy knowing my uncle will never take another breath of life,” Sky replied barely containing her anger. The older man let out a long sigh and left the house, leaving her alone in her house with her thoughts. Sky sat down on her couch and tried to calm down. Working herself up would get her nowhere. Rubbing her forehead with her thumbs she took a deep breath then released it. A light whisper echoed through the room repeating one phrase.
“Sky….come here. Sky…….come here.”
Startled Sky looked up and asked, “Who’s there?”
“Sky….come here. I’m waiting for you…..”
Sky listened to the phantom whisper and tried to determine where it was coming from. It seemed to be coming from her room. Slowly standing up she continued to listen to the whisper as she made her way to her room. Sky gulped as she paused in her doorway then took a couple of steps in before the whisper grew slightly louder.
“Sky….turn around….look at me…”
Sky looked around with wide eyes not seeing anything until she looked in the mirror and saw her reflection waving at her. Her reflection seemed to be bleeding out of her eyes and smiling at her.

Stabbed in the Heart

       This is one of the writing exercises my Creative Writing class did for Mr. Greene, today, on September 23, 2011. It is about a first kiss that goes completely wrong and has been modified to possibly become a short story. I feel like it could, and maybe should, go farther, but I need ideas on how to further the plot and to develop the characters, if you please.

       He held my hands, making me shiver fervently as I stood, staring into his eyes. I smiled at him, wanting to get closer to him, studying the planes of his body subtly. I wanted to fall into his eyes, like the temptation of a water bed after a long hard day of pushing to the limit in work or athletics. I pushed away my thoughts, deciding I didn't want to scare him off just yet.
      "Is something wrong, Annie?" His voice, so deep and clear and calm, comforting my anxiety. I've been wanting this moment for years now, knowing of my own feelings for him since I first laid eyes on him back in September, almost four years ago now.

       "No, no. I'm fine, I promise." My reply, although not as reassuring as I had meant for it to be, went through my mind with certainty and then echoed in my ears as more of a question. Why is your voice interrupting my thoughts? I thought, thankfully not out loud.

       The next thing I know, he's wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in closer. Jarrod, the Zues of the football team, the gorgeous Jarrod, was bringing his lips to my cheek. Pressed there, he searched for my lips. Once he found them, he pulled me closer to share in the magic of our first kiss.

       And then our second, and then our third. It was more than just this magical and mystical feeling that I have coveted since Freshman year, but it was this passionate intensity that made me tingle in places I had long forgotten existed.

       His muscular arms held me without give, keeping my body to his as we kissed for what seemed like years. I cherished the moment, trying hard to remember that this may be the last time this happens, if a girl who's more to his speed came and snagged him away. At that second, I wasn't aware of how right I was that this moment would end sooner than I wanted, and I was unaware of how exactly it would end.

      I felt a sharp pain reverberating in my chest. My pulse dimmed, and I dropped to the ground. I writhed in pain, trying to catch Jarrod's eyes in my own. His were darker than I've ever seen them, and there was a slightly romantic- and kind of sexy- evil glowing within the deep pools of blue that I had been accostumed to relating to comfort.

      "I couldn't let anyone else have you, Annie. I love you too much for that." Jarrod's voice was ragged and more tenor than the baritone I have been hearing before. I lost conciousness for a moment and when it came back, my eyes drifted to the bloody knife he held so surely. I shivered uncontrolably as the pain became more intense.

      With my last breath, my last second of life, I saw him take his own. He fell next to me, his body pinning mine down, and all too soon the world went blank.