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Diamond
I’ve always been terrified of horror movies.
Grew up admiring the girls that can power through them without shitting their pants, but me? I’m not brave. What I am, though… is stupid.
The kind of stupid that follows her boss’s son into a forest in the middle of the night, only to lose him two minutes later with no service on her phone.
On the bright side, no need to watch horror movies if you’re living one.
I’ve been wandering around the trail by Lacey’s house for thirty minutes now. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, half-expecting an axe murderer to jump out of a bush and chop me up into pieces.
I realize I’ve been walking in a circle when I recognize the maple tree on my left—it’s the third time I’ve seen it.
Two initials are carved into the trunk.
H + N.
So, not only have I lost Finn, but I’ve also lost my way.
Nice going, Dia.
I’ve refused to stray from the hiking trail in fear of getting devoured by some animal in the woods, but I can’t keep going in circles. Maybe the only way out is through?
Stepping off the path, I grab my house keys out of my pocket and trap one into my fist. Not that I expect a key to stop a bear from eating me alive, but it’s the best defense I’ve got. Plus, wild animals aren’t the only thing I’m worried about. Finn’s sketchy “friend” might be roaming these woods, too.
Tears forming in the corners of my eyes, I trudge through the forest with my phone flashlight on. I understand I’ve reached the town’s abandoned railway when I almost trip over the track, thick roots and weeds twisting around the rusted steel.
I have no clue where this leads.
Odds are, following this track will only drag me deeper into the woods, but I don’t see a better alternative to find cell service. I walk for fifteen minutes and stop when I emerge out of the woods and spot the town’s wooden trestle bridge ahead of me.
Silver Bridge.
It was named after the town. Back when people still thought the railways were a good idea. The train was to be a fast and affordable way to get to neighboring towns. A sign of growth for Silver Springs. Little did we know, our annual death toll would start to grow, too.
Silver Bridge quickly became a gathering spot for the youth. Kids would meet there at night to watch the town lights, which, admittedly, are breathtaking from up here. They’d hang out, get drunk, then run out of the way when they heard the train coming.
Thirty-seven kids died on Silver Bridge the first year.
Some fell off the bridge into the rocks; others were crushed by the trains. They put up countless warning signs, but teenagers forged ahead anyway, convinced it wouldn’t happen to them.
To this day, hundreds of people have died here—most of them minors. The town pulled the plug on the project after the bridge claimed the mayor’s kid’s life.
No one really comes here anymo—
Wait.
Is that a shadow?
Yes, it is.
There’s someone here.
A man.
Standing disturbingly still on the bridge.
The moon, sea of stars, and distant town lights allow me to see the stranger’s feet extending past the edge of the structure, eyes riveted to the horizon. I stiffen up when the guy’s focus drifts to the abyss beneath him and he assesses the compacted rocks responsible for numerous funerals.
