Through the Trees


On Tuesday's, after five o'clock in the evening, make sure you never go into the woods behind the Wilson's old farmhouse. Little Sarah can be heard screaming for hours from her place lost in the woods. So many people left the little town after her death, but never her family. Maybe if they had it would have been easier for them to move on. Instead they're still there, generation after generation with the ghosts haunting them. Begging for help to find the lost little girl.

"Can I go and play outside mommy?" a little girl asked tugging at her mother's apron looking longingly at the outside snow.

"Of course honey. But don't go too far, and make sure to take your coat and gloves and…" the door clicked closed with the little girl tugging on her coat and gloves, pulling out her pigtails so they trailed along behind her in the thick snowfall.

It had been snowing all night on that cold December day. Looking up at the cloudy gray sky the snow didn't appear to be stopping anytime soon.

"I love snow." Sarah grinned skipping off into the forest. She walked between two trees spaced relatively far apart compared to the others crowded into the woods, she knew a path lay between them, buried underneath all of the snow.

A snowflake landed on her eyelashes and melted fast away. She grinned and turned her head up running around after the windblown snowflakes trying to catch them in her mouth. She twirled in a circle, and fell to the ground giggling. Lying back, she made a snow angel. She lay in the snow watching the flakes fall down on her for quite a time. But soon the cold crept in at her, even through the thick coat she wore. She sat up and looked around for her house. It was nowhere in sight.

"Mommy?' she called. Silence rang back at her. She stood and looked for her footprints in the snow. They were quickly being covered, so she hurried to retrace them. Before her house was in view the footprints had disappeared, the snow covering them faster then she could follow. She sat down against a tree and screamed, "Mommy!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs. Wails of wordless woe fell from her lips. She needed to be loud, or no one would find her. She needed to scream, or she would be lost forever.

What felt like hours passed. No one came as the cold enveloped her. Her hands grew numb inside of her gloves. Her eyes started watering uncontrollably in her body's attempt to keep them from freezing open. She closed them eventually. Her constant scream slowed to noise she sporadically forced from her raw throat, and frozen lips.

She leaned her head back against the tree behind her to rest for a bit before continuing. She squinted her eyes barley open, and looked down at the snow. She unfurled one of her numb hands sending the sensation of pins and needles up her arm. She squished her fingers difficulty through the snow and smiled, "I love the snow."


Ever since that December 12th so many years ago everyone knows never to go outside on Tuesday's after five. Never look up at the sky. One of the most disturbing things to be seen is snow raining down on a ninety-seven degree day as screams for her mom rip from Sarah into the air. Till I moved to this town I never believed in ghosts, and now blasting up my radio to dull out her wails, I wish I still didn't.

The End