The Ghosts

The whistling wind and swirling snowflakes brushed by her car as she flew down the mountainside. Adrenaline rushed through her veins. Finally free, she gleefully watched her surroundings flash by in a blur.

It felt like she was flying: so exhilarating was it for her to leave everything behind. They would never find her in this storm, she knew. If she made it down to the village, to Thomas, she would be safe. Then she would start her life anew. 

The wind roared outside, sounding almost like the revving of a car. She shook her head to clear her mind. It couldn’t be. But the ominous sound still sent shivers down her spine. 

She became aware of how alone she was on the road. The dark asphalt stretched as far as she could see no matter where she looked. If she crashed, if he found her, no one would ever know. Shadows began to form in the storm like ghosts. David, Aaron, her father, all shapeless yet distinct figures reaching out their icy fingers, screaming her name in the wind. Her hands began to shake, and her heart beat faster in her chest. She had to stop imagining these things. Everything is going to be alright, she told herself. Thomas is waiting for me in the village. He will keep me safe.

Still, the figures persisted, chasing after her car, tearing at her doors. Her name escaped their wailing lips again and again. Come back, they begged. You’ll regret this.

She couldn’t believe it. She refused to believe it, now just as strongly as before. But her heart only beat faster. Desperate to escape, she pressed her foot on the gas, flying along the road faster than she ever had before. The snowflakes sounded like bullets against her car. She wouldn’t let it end like this. She wouldn’t let them get her. Faster and faster she went down the mountainside. She couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. 

by JULIA ARNOLD

Then she lost control.