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The woman seems content.
“I…” I stammer, trying to let my brain catch up. “What just happened?”
Maybe this ghost can answer me. She certainly isn’t avoiding me. The ghost only smiles and beckons me to follow her.
I think there’s a hard and fast rule about not following ghosts in a spooky forest. But at this point, I’m pretty low on options.
How many times have I avoided death today? What’s one more?
I try to stand, but as soon as I put weight on my foot again, I grimace. “My ankle, I’m not sure I can keep walking on it.”
Have you ever tried hopping through a forest with only one good hand to grab onto things? It’s not ideal.
I look around, thinking maybe the ghost will wait for me while I crawl around and find a decent walking stick. As if having the same thought, the ghost woman looks around and whisks away a few paces before picking up a long stick from the shadows.
That gives me pause. The ghost picked up a physical object.
Well, that’s new.
The woman glides back to me and holds out the stick. I graciously accept, testing its strength. “Thank you.” I say.
I use my good hand to hold onto it and take a step forward. I can make this work.
At that, the ghost smiles at me again before turning and slowly starting to float in the direction she came from. She stops to look back at me, beckoning me again to follow.
It's time for a leap of faith.
I shrug and slowly set off, following her ethereal glow.
We don’t walk for long before the ghost stops. Reaching her side, I look ahead to where she’s staring. Not a dozen feet away, the forest opens to a road.
I could cry, but it would take more energy than I have left. “Thank you,” I breathe. My words come out choppy since I’m still shivering. The ghost smiles at me once more before continuing and fading out of existence.
I don’t bat an eye at her sudden disappearance. I’ve seen enough crazy things over the last week to last me a lifetime.
With renewed drive, I hobble over to the road and make out the faint glow of a town not too far away.
Still frozen and tired, I decide I want to live, and start walking.
Chapter 5
Four years later, present day.
MY FEET SKID DOWN THE STEEP EMBANKMENT TO THE BEACH,THErounded stones providing little traction. Fog is already rolling in off the water, making it difficult to see the other side of the cove. With the fog comes a damp chill, and I tighten my favourite thrifted sweater around my neck.
I need to come to terms with the fact that fall is not too early to start wearing a scarf, at least not in this part of the country.
The northern shores of the East Coast have become my haven forover two years now.
When I finally made it home the night of my attack, I kept my lips sealed, refusing to share any details of what happened to me.
Luckily, my mother was so appalled by the threat of a scandal that she’d insisted on the spot not to involve the police. I was in complete agreement – no authorities needed.
I think some pain meds would have been nice, given my broken thumb, multiple lacerations, and sprained ankle. But, under the same umbrella of ‘don’t let the neighbours know your kid is fucked up,’ my mother insisted I was fine.
So instead of receiving medical care, I sucked it up and went to my room.
I didn’t leave the house again for another year and a half.
