The Girl

Sensitive content: death and crime

Taking my morning walk along the river, I enjoy watching the sun appear at the river’s end casting light over the valleys of Obsidian, Colorado. It’s a popular town of over 40,000 people but gives you that mystical small-town vibe.

As I listen to my audio book and walk through the leaves scattered across the walkway, I feel at peace. Fall is my favorite season. The crunch of the leaves under my running shoes. The way the crisp autumn air flows through my hair, carrying the nostalgic scent of damp leaves and pine. There’s nothing else in this world that is quite like it.

“Hey you there!” I see the police officer mouth as he points and walks closer to me. I take off my headphones and before I can even get out a breath, “The walkway is closed a mile ahead. Police investigation. You need to turn around and head back the other way.” He utters sharply. “Is everything okay?” I questioned as I look past him and see the reflecting blue and red lights. Everything taped off. They have divers coming out of the water and what appears to be numerous body bags laying on the ground but it’s hard to see from here. “That is police business I’m afraid.” I turn around and head back to my car.

“Over 100 bodies found in Moonstone River early this morning” I overhear on the radio while I drive home after work late that night. Turning the volume up, I am sucked in to what I just heard. Is that what I stumbled upon this morning on my walk? It must be. Why else would I have seen all those body bags. Chills take over my whole body.

As my focus goes back onto the road a child appears in the roadway in front of me. Slamming on my brakes I jerk the wheel to swerve around them and come to a halting stop, my car tilting sideways mere inches of going over the cliff. Slamming back on all four tires, it takes me a second to come back to reality.

I always take the back roads home. I like the eerie nighttime drive – until now. I don’t think I hit anything. I didn’t feel anything other than almost careening off the mountainside. I put the car in park and get out. It’s so dark up here, I can’t see a thing.

“Hello?” I call out as loud as I can after the air escaped my lungs from my life flashing before my eyes. I turn on my flashlight on my phone. Barely helping I see something dart into the trees, into the dark forest. Like an idiot, I follow. I know I saw someone, and I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt them and just left, especially a child. What is a child even doing out here alone?

Running through the trees into the unforgiving wilderness I see the child sitting on the floor of the forest. Every alarm in my body is going off as I approach them. Her back to me I crouch down and put my hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” I ask just above a whisper, all the hair on my body sticking straight up. Slowly the child turns her head and when I see the front of her face all the blood drains from my body. “You can see me?” comes from her mouth as I’m staring at black gaping holes where her eyes should be. Frozen where I’m standing shock overtakes me. More than it had already. Run. I think loudly to myself, but my feet don’t move. My heart is beating so fast it’s pounding in my ears and trying to escape through my throat. Finally, my feet catch up to the rest of my body, and I take off back towards the road. I reach my car and throw it into drive and take off. Not looking back.

Beep Beep Beep.

7:00 AM. I jolt awake, lungs tight, drenched in sweat clinging to my skin. I don’t remember what else happened last night. I drove home on autopilot and sat in bed in disbelief until the exhaustion won and I must have fallen asleep. I locked every door in the house and every window and slept with the lights on.

I sit up, heart pounding in my chest. I steady myself with a few deep breaths, then swing my legs over the edge of the bed. But the instant my feet meet the floor, I freeze.

Cold. Wet.

There’s water—slick and icy—pooled beneath me. My toes sink into it, and a chill crawls up my spine. I follow the trail with my eyes—wet, glistening, small footprints leading away from my bed. What is going on? My heart is still pounding like it is going to burst through my chest. I grab the bat from beside my bedside table and quietly walk towards my bedroom door. If someone is here, I need to protect myself.

As I walk out the door. The wet footprints continue through the hall and down the stairs. I look around and check the other two rooms up here. I don’t see anything or anyone, so I make my way to the stairs.

The stairs groan before I even reach them. Old wood shifting like someone – or something, is walking on the steps. The house falls quiet. Water clings to the black banister, beading and dripping steadily, tap… tap… tap… onto the steps below.

The trail continues down—each footprint bare, heavy, and far too fresh. The air shifts. Damp. Thick with the scent of rot and river silt, like the house had soaked something in from outside. I searched the whole house and didn’t find a trace of anyone being here besides the footprints. All the doors and windows are still locked and there are no signs of forced entry.

After cleaning up the mess of water and convincing myself there was nothing sinister behind it. I flopped onto my purple velvet couch with my freshly brewed coffee and turned on the TV. It was already set to Channel 9 News. The headline flashed across the screen: Heartbreaking Discovery: Body of Missing 9-year-old Clara Winslow Recovered in Moonstone River Search. My mouth almost hits the floor along with my fresh cup of coffee with how fast it drops open. It’s the same child I saw last night – it’s her.