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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1093053-The-Bridge-People
by Rolf
Rated: 13+ · Other · Horror/Scary · #1093053
A girl runs from something, only to find herself running from bad to worse!
The Bridge People





He was still in the house.
That much, Sarah knew. Who he was, or which room he was in, Sarah had no idea of. She had been down in the basement, watching the television, when all the electricity had gone off. Sarah’s room was in the basement, and it was not particularly unusual for the electricity to fail in the basement. Sometimes, the electricity would shut off in the basement, but be fine upstairs. It annoyed the goddamn hell out of Sarah.
But this was no normal failure of the electricity.

Almost as soon as the electricity had gone off, Sarah heard a door from upstairs bang. She assumed it was the front door. The only reason she could think of for the door banging was that her mother had gone outside, to check if the electric's line had been cut or anything like that. However, the door didn’t bang again to show that Sarah’s mother had come back into the house.
Then it had happened.

Sarah heard the scream. The piercing scream of her mother.
And then silence again. It had been silent for a couple of minutes, since the scream.
It was when Sarah began to think of the scenario that she began to panic. There were no real next-door neighbours. Where would she go? It was about half a mile to the next house. Her own house was virtually surrounded by trees on three sides. There was nowhere for Sarah to run.

But she had to get out of the house.
She slowly began to edge forwards, toward the basement stairs. She was as careful as she could be, trying desperately not to knock into anything, or make any noises. She knew she had reached the stairs when her foot bumped into the bottom stair. As she began to edge up the stairs, different scenario’s crept through Sarah’s mind.

What if there was no killer? Mom fell over, bumped her head and screamed?
What if this was all a big joke?
But Sarah knew this was no joke. And that scream had not come from a woman who had bumped her head.

As she neared the top of the staircase, her heart began to race faster and faster. She was sure that anybody creeping around the house would be able to hear her heart beat from any room they were in. This anxiety made her creep faster towards the top of the stairs. She carefully put her foot out, into the complete darkness, searching for the next step. But there wasn’t one. She realised she had reached the top of the stairs. So she reached out for the door knob. She put her hand too far to the right, and slid it up and down the door, until she felt the door knob brush her hand. She adjusted her hand again, and grabbed hold of it. She twisted it, carefully. Cautiously.

Click.
Sarah flinched when she heard the sound the door knob made. It seemed incredibly loud in the complete darkness and silence. She couldn’t see much out of the doorway as she slowly crept the door open.

She began to move as quickly, yet as cautiously as possible towards the door. She looked straight ahead, afraid to look anywhere else, in case she saw a shape or a shadow. She feared something reaching out and touching her. She feared the terror she would feel as a hand grabbed her shoulder.

And then she felt it....
Just as her hand grabbed the knob of the front door, something brushed her arm. A hand? Sarah didn’t care to find out. She swung the door open as quickly as possible. She ran. She ran, encouraged through fear to run faster than she ever had before. She ran. She ran into complete darkness....







She knew she could not out run her pursuer, on a flat stretch. Her only hope was to run towards the trees... Even though it was impossible to tell what lay beyond the trees.....
With only the light from the moon, Sarah ran, as fast as she could. She veered left, towards the tress, too petrified to check over her shoulder, in case she saw the shape following her. Her heart raced. Her head throbbed. She thought she even felt a tear of fear fall from her eye, and trickle down her cheek. Her chest burned every time she breathed, but she didn’t stop running.
She weaved in and out of all the tress, careful not to trip, or even to bump into a tree. She could hardly see five feet in front of her as she went deeper and deeper into the trees. She knew there was a stream in the woods somewhere along here. If she could cross the small bridge, she would be safe. There were houses close by on the other side of the stream.

Sarah squinted, trying to make out where about the stream was. She didn’t slow down, and still refused to look over her shoulder. She tried to listen out for the sound of footsteps behind her, but could only hear her own feet on the ground, pattering every time she ran. She also heard her heartbeat, which seemed to be racing impossibly fast. She felt like her chest might explode.

She had never been this terrified in the whole of her life.
She could hear the vague sound of the stream, before she could actually see it. The sound of the flowing water seemed to give her renewed hope, and she ran even faster, if that was at all possible.

As she neared the bridge, she thought she saw something move. She wasn’t sure whether or not it was her imagination playing tricks. It was only as she was almost at the bridge that she saw the shape. Standing under the bridge, but just to the right of it, so she could see it. As soon as the shape realised it had been spotted, it darted back under the bridge.

Sarah could run no longer. She was panting desperately, and struggling to breathe. Her chest felt like it would explode if she continued any longer.
She decided to take her chances with the figure under the bridge. She knew the mistake could cost her her life, but she had no options.

She ran towards where she had seen the figure, and darted under the bridge. There was about five metres of dry earth, before the edge of the stream. She stopped, under the bridge, when she saw the figure, hunched over, back against the wall area of the bridge.

Then she realised there were two figures. The very small shape, which seemed to be a child, was to the right of the larger figure, which Sarah assumed was the child's mother.
“Please...” she started, but that was all she could manage.
A whimper escaped the throat of the young child.
“It’s okay, Jimmy,” came the woman's voice. “What do you want?” she snarled at Sarah.

“Please...” was all she could manage again.
“What’s wrong?” the woman asked, the edge seeming to drop out of her voice. She spoke much more softly.
“Something’s....chasing me...” Sarah managed.
“It’s all right now,” the woman replied, standing, cautiously. “I’m Brenda, and this is me boy Jimmy. Your safe now. We ain’t seen nothing around here. There’s nothing to be afraid of,” the woman said.

“No....you don’t understand....” Sarah replied.
“What don’t I understand?” asked the woman, coming closer to Sarah, cautiously. Edging closer. Creeping closer.
“He was....in my...house,” Sarah said, breathing as heavily as she ever had before.
“It’s all right now,” the woman said again.
“My mother could be.....dead,” Sarah said.
“She won’t be, love. There’s nothing to fear around here.”
The woman said something else, but Sarah could barely make it out, as she passed out, falling to the floor.


When Sarah woke, it was still completely dark. She didn’t realise where she was at first, but after a few seconds, things began to come back to her.
She jolted up into a sitting position.
“Where is she?” Sarah asked, speaking quickly.
“Where’s who, now?” the woman replied, in her croaking voice.
“My mother.....where...?” Sarah stuttered, as the tears began to roll.

“There there, love,” the woman said, once again creeping towards her.
The boy, Jimmy, watched from his hunched position.
“No. We aren’t safe here,” Sarah said, urgently. “He’s coming...I can feel it.”
“Now now, don’t be silly, love. You just wait until Big Mike gets back. He’ll look after us all,”
the woman said.
“Big Mike?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah,” said the woman, poking her head around the side of the bridge. “He should be back any minute now. Oh.....here he comes now,” she said, turning back to Sarah.
The boy jumped to his feet at the news, and ran into the open, to look for something.
“Big Mike?” Sarah asked again.
“He’s here!” the boy shouted. “Daddy’s back!” he yelled.
Sarah made her way to her feet, almost falling back down several times. She stumbled towards the boy, to find out what he had seen.

By the time she reached the boy, Big Mike had already arrived. Sarah backed off, facing the man. He stooped as he made his way under the bridge, and he stared at her, through the darkness.
He had a backpack on his shoulder, which he slipped off his shoulders, and let it drop to the floor.
“Actually,” he said, in a deep, croaky voice. “This is for you,” he said, and grabbed the straps of the backpack, and slung the bag towards Sarah.
She hunched over it, and unzipped the bag.
“What is it?” she asked the man, looking up at him briefly, her heart racing.

“You’ll see,” he said.
And she saw.....
She saw her own belongings from her own house....and her mothers belongings. She picked out her purse, and held it up. There was blood on it.
A scream rose in her throat.
But before it escaped, she was hit from behind.
The last sight Sarah saw, was the man....laughing insanely, like he achieved something incredible.
“We done it again, Jimmy,” he said, laughing.
The final thought in Sarah’s head was the hope that she would see her mother again soon. Something gave her the feeling that she probably would.
Her body never was found.
© Copyright 2006 Rolf (roland500 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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