Nightfall

The Disappearances

Rumour had spread around the village like wildfire, as normal, so Violet had heard the news about her father. She had gone to bed earlier than normal although her parents had said that she could stay up till her father returned home. Violet couldn’t see into the future or anything, but somehow she knew that something would happen to a member of her family that night. She supposed that that was why she had made such a big fuss about her father going that night. Violet could remember her father telling her not to worry, that everything would be all right and that she would see him again in the morning at the latest. In a way, he was right too, but not in the way he meant.

          Instead, Violet had woken up, as normal, and went through to the next room not quite knowing what to expect. It turned out that her father was one of three men to have gone missing. Her mother had set off early to search for him whilst Violet was ordered to stay at home. That was what she was doing now. Staying at home. Doing, well, nothing.

        After about half an hour of doing this ‘nothing’ she decided it was time for her to help in some way. If they hadn’t found the men by now, then they probably never would. Maybe she could fit in some of the smaller spaces as she was smaller and a lot thinner than the average person. Just as she had made up her mind to help, she heard footsteps shuffling through the dirt up to her door. She wasn’t hopeful. She didn’t even know why she did it. It would only ruin what little hope that she had left, but all the same, she looked out the window.

     On the horizon, Violet saw a figure. She could just make out distant features. It was a she, Violet was sure of that. She had dark ginger hair which blew back as a strong breeze ripped through the air. Her skin was so pale, it was hardly visible and Violet imagined that her lips would stand out in contrast to her skin. Although concealed, Violet also imagined her to have dark green eyes, peering out from beneath her perfect eyebrows. In fact, she looked quite perfect. So perfect, in fact, that Violet thought she would remember her. Normally she knew everyone in the village, but this face was unfamiliar.

      All this Violet noticed in the space of a few short seconds as the wooden door was banged on again for what sounded like the fifth time, although Violet hadn’t heard it before. At that noise, the figure turned to star at her then ‘sprinted’ away into the trees. Her sprint, Violet noticed, wasn’t anything like that of an ordinary person. It looked easy for her, as it would for Violet to have walked slowly away. Violet wondered who she was. Normally she’d recognise everyone, but today, she supposed, wasn’t normal.   

      Remembering mister Whitmore outside, Violet trudged towards the door. She almost didn’t want to open it, knowing what was waiting for her on the other side. Still, Violet thought, she couldn’t ignore him. Not after all he had done for her family. She owed him that much.

       Back when she was a baby, her father had developed a disease which could kill the victim. Her mother had tried to do everything: feed herself, Violet and her husband, care for baby and man, find, chop and burn the firewood and do the farming and household chores. Within a week, Violet’s mother was almost dead on her feet. If it hadn’t been for mister Whitmore’s help around the house and surrounding areas then they would almost certainly be dead. Although Violet couldn’t remember it, he was like a second father.

         Yes, she had no choice but to open the door, welcome him in with a smile and put on a brave face. So that is what she did. Open the door, smile..... And stare.