The Lost Case Of Cooper County

A Figure

Kathy's knuckles were stained with paint, and the expression on her face made her seem traumatized. I really felt sorry for her, because she's always like this. Paranoid. Anxious. I reached my hand out towards her, handing over her daily pill. She refused to take it, tears falling onto her cheeks.

"Kathy, please. You'll feel terrible without it," I begged.

"I don't want it!" She snapped.

"Okay," I mumbled, sticking the pill back into the bottle.

The days seemed to drag on. Everyday I was taking care of this woman, begging her to take her medicine, trying to keep her calm, it was terrible. But I had no choice. It was the only job for miles. My husband stayed at the house all the time, because he couldn't get work. He was severely injured just a couple months after our baby, Marco, was born. He had ended up in a very gruesome car accident between a half blind woman and himself.
I made my way out on the road. There was no one else out driving, and it was very cold outside. I turned the radio on, and a nice, relaxing bluegrass song had started playing. I hummed along to the song, occasionally looking around at the trees.
As I kept driving, I noticed something unusual in the distance. I had no idea what it was. As I kept getting closer, it started to look more human-like. I thought it might have been a hitchhiker or something. I stopped my vehicle across from it, to see what it was. I unbuckled my seat belt and moved to the seat closest to the figure. I ducked behind the window and tried to study it's appearance a bit.
It was moving along the woods, but I could still see it. I rolled my window down and stuck my head out. It was moving towards me. I panicked, and tried to move back to the driver's seat. But I was paralyzed with fear. I dreadfully watched as the figure kept getting closer and closer, until I could feel it's breath on my neck. Then I couldn't feel anything.