The Whispers Among the Trees

Whispers

I've lived in this run down town since I can remember; not that there's anything to remember. Same run down school, same playground that is dangerously falling apart from years of not having the money to fix them. Same movie theater that was condemned last year due to the roof constantly collapsing; and the same old willow trees causing the wind to sound like whispers... Just boring, old Southspell, Oregon... nothing ever happens here; or should I say nothing happened here, until the day I turned 17. I know it sounds like superstition and or likely a coincidence, but it's not; i feel that in my gut.

I ask occasionally why we don't leave, why we don't go somewhere nicer... the reply is always the same. The town needs our help to clense it from the 'evil spirits' and the 'bad juju.' She says that there were innocent people murdered in this town in cold blood long ago that need our help, that we need to guide them to the other side; or else, they'll be lost and they'll wander forever. I've never believed in spirits or the supernatural, so I just ignore most of the things Mother Zoska says; even though you're supposed to listen to your mother... God, I should have listened to her.

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I take another bite of my apple and sigh... just another dreary, dull, and foggy morning. Nobody is out on the streets, and i'm not shocked; nobody's out this early with this kind of morning before nine, unless you're going to school or work. I left my house on the 'edge' of town twenty minutes ago. Except, I'm not headed for the school like normal, I'm going to the Widow's bridge to work on some art instead. While I round the corner, i chuck my apple core into a rusty trashcan next to a store entrance. The nice thing about the area being a ghost town most of the time, is that nobody's around to catch you...

As I scramble across the large, jagged rocks to get down to the beach and under the bridge, all I can hear is the constant 'whispering' of the wind in the willow trees. The trees are what makes this place notoriously haunted for tourists.

Jumping down from the last rock to the beach, I look up and see a tall figure in a hoodie staring off at the sea. He starts to turn my way and I duck behind a bush; Why is he here? No one should be here. His footsteps begin to draw closer and stop directly in front of my makeshift hiding spot; don't see me, don't see me...- he grabs my arms to full me off of the ground, and it feels like they're on fire. "Who are you?" I stammer as I try to wrench out of his unrelenting grasp.

"Don't you recognize you're worst nightmare," he replies with a smirk and tightens his grip on my arms. I cry out in pain, it feels like he's burning a hole right through my arm. Realization hits me, and my eyes go wide.

"No, not who; what are you? " I try shaking out of his grip once more, and he slowly becomes less human... his glimmer is wearing off; at least, to me.

"We've been hunting for you for a long time bitch, but that damn gypsy woman keeps you hidden well." He snarls, and moves a hand to my throat to try to choke me, but somehow I manage to break the chain on my necklace and grip the crystal close to me; it's a slender chunk of Agate. I take a deep breath in through my nose and ask for the strength of the crystal to help me defend against the lurker. A flood of energy, almost like adrenaline rushes through my veins. Somehow I manage to get around it's back and pin it, then I quickly reach into my boot with my free hand to grab the worn rope of the steel knife and slam it into the beast's chest and it disintegrates.

I stand up, and immediately feel dizzy.  I hear somebody shouting,but I can't tell where it's coming from or who it's intended for. I feel a warm, coppery liquid start to run down my upper lip, then my chin; the footsteps are getting close.  I see a hand reach out before the world goes black and I'm falling...