Jane was not a believer. Everything, in her mind, was coincidence. Then again, she was a strange girl, so it is only natural that she’d have such strange thoughts.
Her birthday was October 13th, and although every descendent in her family had been born with wavy blonde hair, Jane’s was pin-straight and pitch black. Her mother, being a most eloquent woman, convinced everyone it was merely a gift from nature, and that Jane had simply been born to stand out. However, after walking in on a scene far too “graphic” for her young eyes between her mother and the pool boy Nathaniel, Jane knew otherwise.
By the time she was 12, she thought her entire family a bunch of imbeciles, especially her mother’s husband. She was the spitting image of her biological father. They both had the same large lips permanently shaped as though they were whistling, the same big eyes with long thick lashes, the same black hair and soft features; they even had the same lean build. In fact, other than distinct gender-based differences, the only things she had that weren’t his were her pale skin and grey iris’. Just as well, Jane was very close to Nathaniel and so never uttered a word hinting the affair.
The peculiar events that inspired this writing all occurred on her 13th birthday (which incidentally was a Friday) though. It was nearing dusk, the sun already sinking into the horizon. The air was laced with certain frostiness, warning of the winter that rapidly approached. All the leaves on the trees had changed color, many of them littering the ground.
At a quarter to 7 pm, Jane arrived on the front steps of her best friend Delilah’s house. The door was tall and thick with an intimidating air about it, contrasting greatly to the otherwise welcoming exterior of the house. After Knowing Delilah for 8 years, Jane knew better than to ring the doorbell, so she knocked loudly.
The door swung open in a flash revealing the dreaded Melody (Delilah’s older sister).
“Hey Squirt,” she groaned in an uninviting tone. She was tall but chubby with orangish-red ringlets for hair like Mr.Ravenspheild (Delilah’s dad).
“Hello Melody,” she replied in her usual polite way.
“Upstairs. The parents are out for the night.” Melody pointed out nonchalauntly and stepped aside. Jane hurried upstairs bag in hand. Delilah was sitting on her bed reading some thick looking book with a blue and gold cover.
“Watchya readin’?” she didn’t even bother with a formal greeting.
“A book of town ‘legends’” Delilah didn’t even look up. She just brushed a lock of auburn hair from her face and blinked her almond-shaped green eyes.
“Oh, put that crap down”
“But it’s interesting” Delilah whined.
“How can that made-up junk be interesting?!”
“How do you know it’s made up?”
“Key word, legends”
“Yeah but this one in particular is based on true events”
“Read me then” Jane was obviously skeptical about the entire ordeal.
“How's about I just summarize it instead?”
“Sure”
“Ok, well about 23 or so years ago this boy Emile Sanders went out to Crenshaw Park with his little sister and this other girl Delilah –creepy coincidence- that he liked or something. Back then that wooded area hadn’t been thinned out and the playground wasn’t built.”
“Yeah I heard about this already,”
“But this versions a different. They decided to play hide-and-go-seek since Emile and that other chick wanted some ‘alone’ time or somethin’. They made the kid, Sydney, the little kid go first.”
“Yeah, yeah I know and…”
“SHHH! I said it was different!”
“OK, OK! SHEESH!”
“Anyways, Sydney went to hide and Emile being a raging ball of hormones or whatever forgot to go look for her until it was getting dark. They knew she’d have been in the woods, so they went on a search for her that lasted until well into the night.”
“YEAH! AND…”
“SHHH! And they finally found her lifeless body facedown by the creek. Worse even, they rolled her over only to find her chest removed and her insides GONE!”
“WHAT?!?!?!?!”
“Yeah,” Melody was standing in the doorway “And you know what the book doesn’t tell you?”
“No what?!” both girls were fascinated now, as young girls often are with things that frightened them.
“It was that other girl, Delilah’s father who did it, and he hung his daughter from the big maple. Poor Emile was never seen again… he just vanished without a trace. They say that on every Friday the 13th, you can climb the old maple and watch it replay itself, like a movie… BOO!” Jane and Delilah jumped, Delilah ensconcing herself in her blanket.
“Liar. That’s a b-bunch of bull.” Jane tried but failed to sound brave.
“Well tonight’s Friday 13th, go find out.”
“NO!”
“Why? You scared?”
“NO!”
“Then go.”
“But...”
“But what?”
“Why don’t you go?”
Melody shrugged “My boyfriend’s gonna be over tonight.”
“SO?!”
“Oh, don’t be such a damn chicken.”
“FINE! I’LL GO!” Jane got right on up and walked out, Delilah fallowing close behind. They snuck over across town (which was only about a mile) to the old park. It was neglected and overgrown. The equipment they had added to try to conceal the eerie feeling left hanging over the park after the murders had all rusted over, resulting in a symphony of discordant squeaks in the autumn wind. The law hadn’t been mowed or tended to since the caretaker Mr.Manosa died last year. Jane and Delilah climbed over the uneven picket fence and crossed over to the swing-set on the other end of the park.
“So where’s the old maple?” Delilah asked totally unaware of the fact she was standing right in front of it.
“I don’t know… Let’s split up and look for it.”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? IT’S DARK JANE!”
“And? Look we’ll just go in for 5 minutes, and then we’ll meet right back here, ok?”
“Fine.” Delilah pouted but put up no further argument, she knew it’d do her no justice. After a moment, she hesitantly entered the unruly brush. Jane then entered the brush a few yards away. Exactly 5 minutes later, she remerged from the brush, but Delilah wasn’t there.
“Delilah? DELILAH!?” now Jane was frantic. There was no reply at all. Just the squeak… no… not even the squeaking, the squeaking had stopped. Slowly, on the brink of tears, Jane turned her head toward the swing set. She yelped at the sight of a boy, around sixteen-ish slumping on the swing nearest her. He had curly, white-blonde hair and was very pale. She couldn’t see his face at all.
“H-have you s-seen my friend?” she stumbled over her words. Her body trembled and some unknown force inside her knew that this was no human. This was Emile. This was the Emile who’d died years ago, and now that she’d invaded his territory, he was going to kill her. He only shook his head no at her in reply.
“Who are y-you?” she could feel the tears welling in her eyes now. He didn’t move at all. Suddenly, the voice of a little girl filled the park.
Catch me Emie! Catch me if you can!!!
It was fallowed by innocent laughter.
“A-are you Emile?” he nodded slowly.
“Are you… are you g-going to kill me then?”
“Not me.” The voice seemed to surround her, as though it was in her mind, but it was soothing and relaxed her nerves.
“Y-you’re dead…” again the ghost of Emile nodded. He seemed depressed, but I suppose I would too if I were in his situation. “Are you lonely?” he nodded once more. He looked up, his eyes pure white and face dripping blood. Jane felt something warm dripping on her face just above her. He looked as terrified as she was.
“Delilah…” he whispered. Jane looked above herself to find Delilah’s body hanging above her. In her left hand she held her heart… still beating.
When they found Jane’s body, her black hair was ghost white. Emile’s not lonely anymore.
By: Cassandra Prichard
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