Serial Saturday [Horror] – The Girl In The Park #5

Good Morning all (depending on where in the world you are. Other timezones are also available).

Last week, our protagonist had all but given up hope of seeing this enigmatic woman again, until one day when he catches sight of something that draws him to investigate. It’s not immediately obvious what he has seen, but after a few moments, all is revealed…

You can read the first part HERE or the most recent part HERE.

I have a fun ghost ‘fact’ for you at the end. On to today…

Ready to give up, I turned to head back.  It was then that I saw her.  Skipping over the grass towards the trees she came.  Behind her followed a man.   The couple were obviously laughing, although there were no sounds that I could hear.  As they approached the trees, she slowed, allowing the man to catch up. The woman looked as before, dressed in the same nightshirt, with no sign of the bloodstain.  Her partner caught up with her, and the two of them collapsed into each other’s arms, laughing and kissing.

I watched, feeling an unnatural jealousy.  I did not even know her name; had not even heard her voice, yet I felt my jaw tighten and my fists clench.  As the two parted, I was able to clearly see her lover.  I remember blinking my eyes and staggering, as if dealt a physical blow, as I recognised my father.  There was no trace of the grey that would streak his hair in later life, and he walked with a relaxed manner that he had not displayed in my lifetime, but it was definitely him.  I watched him glance back towards the house before taking her by the hand, and leading her into the trees.  The two stumbled, as they fought to remove the other’s clothes.  It was obvious what they were here for, but my role remained as yet, undiscovered.

I watched as my father pushed the woman to the ground, and knelt over her.  The mood had changed, and she tried to push him off.  When he didn’t move, she reached for a small rock, grabbed it, and struck him a blow to the side of his head, knocking him off her.  She stood up and started to head back toward the house.  

I looked on in horror as my father climbed to his feet, and started walking after her.  He pulled a small knife from his back pocket, and flicked it open.  The blade was about the length of his index finger.  I stepped out from my vantage point and began to run towards him.  He gave no sign that he saw or heard me, and proceeded to grab the woman by her shoulder, spinning her round to face him.  As he pulled his knife back to strike, I lowered my shoulder, and threw it into his side.

As I landed on the floor, I realised that I had passed through him.  I looked back in time to see him plunge the knife into my mystery woman.  I screamed in anguish as she fell to the floor, a patch of blood blossoming out from where the knife had entered.  I watched as my father took her by the ankles, and dragged her back into the trees.  Grabbing a handful of leaves, he wiped the blade, folded it away, and returned it to his pocket.

Very quickly, it became evident that I was unable to physically interact with him, and was similarly unable to speak to him.  He gave no indication that he could hear or see me.  Eventually, I was forced to watch as he covered her with the forest floor detritus, and walked back toward the house.  He had walked maybe fifty paces when he faded from my sight.

I returned to the mound of earth and leaves, to find that, like my father, it was no longer there.  I sat down on the damp floor and wept, not for my father’s actions, but for the woman, who had been with me through most of my life – the woman I had come to love – and was now gone.  

The image of her face visited me many times over the next few nights.  In each dream she would call my name, imploring me to help, and every morning I would wake with her screams in my ears.  I was tormented this way for almost a month, until she came back to me.

The circumstances of her return were almost identical to those I had previously witnessed; half way up the big stone staircase in front of the house, dressed in the pale nightshirt.  My heart leapt when I saw her.  She looked just as I remembered.  As before, she led me to the top of the steps, pausing briefly in front of the picture she had looked at previously.  She turned to face me, causing a fluttering feeling in my chest as her eyes met mine.  She raised one slender finger to her eye, before turning her head back to the picture.  Silently, she moved off into the house.

That’s all for today folks! let me leave you with this interesting ghost ‘fact’:

Why does it seem that ghosts are more active at night? Some say that when fewer electronic devices are used, we’re more likely to detect ghostly spirits in our homes. – CBC.CA

True fact.

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