EPTListening to that whilst reading really makes quite the difference.
Basically I found this song on youtube, saw the image that went along with it, and decided to write a little story about it, comment, tell me how you like.
Every year, when the snow just begins to fall, I look out my front door, hoping to see her silhouette, my little girl come back to me.
Fourteen years ago, I gave my eight year old daughter a harp I had found in town. It was a small and light little thing, wasn’t tuned that well, but still playable. I gave it to her on her birthday, because she had always loved music. I eventually found some sheet music for the thing, but by the time I had found a second page, she had already written her own song. I’ll admit it…didn’t sit right with me. Something about the song, no, the tune, the tune…scared me. I asked her nicely to play it outside from now on, and she agreed.
She played that harp everyday; I heard its soft notes through the walls. To be honest, I didn’t feel right, telling her to only play it outside, living on a farm we didn’t have much, so now she finally had something that was hers, and she could only play it outside. She really didn’t seem to mind though. Our farm was relatively average sized; there was our house on one end of the wheat field, and the forest on the other. During the winter, you could just barely make out someone walking in front of the forest.
When she was twelve, she wanted to explore the forest. I told her that she could only go about five trees deep, that way she couldn’t get lost. She ended up finding a tree stump that was completely flat, and I was directly across from our front door, unfortunately two trees blocked it from sight, so even I knew it was right there, I would never be able to see it from the house. She picked the stump as the new place she would play her harp, I wasn’t too thrilled that she would be spending all that time in the forest, but I figure I’d be able to know if anything was wrong because the music would stop.
Eventually though, she’d only go out there to play in the winter. Her fourteenth birthday rolled around, and so did winter. It was about the time we were going to start celebrating so I went out to go get her. When I got to the tree line the music, and her singing, was as loud as could be. I passed the two trees and she came into sight, but so did something else, I stared and behind one of the trees behind my daughter, what appeared to be a black cloak slipped back behind the tree. After that I told her I didn’t want her to go into the forest anymore, and then, my little girl, who did everything her daddy said, told me…no. I tried to explain, but she wouldn’t listen, she said she loved playing in those woods.
A year went by, and things kept repeating themselves. I’d go out to tell her to come back home, and see a piece of the cloak slip behind a tree. It wasn’t always in the same place, sometimes it’d be up in a tree, but the cloak would always be behind the way my daughter faced. Then one night, I decide to try and follow the black cloak, and I saw what was clearly a man wearing a ragged black cloak duck into the maze of trees, everything was black on him, from his shoes to his hair. I told my daughter that this was it, she’d never come into those woods again. My daughter yelled and argued with me, but I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her home, and as we reach the door, I look back, and see the figure of the man; I can just barely make out his cloak flickering in the icy cold air.
On the night of her sixteenth birthday, I had trouble sleeping. I got up to get some water; I opened the door, and saw a tall shadow outside my daughter’s door. I ran around the corner, but there was no one there. I opened the door, and my daughter’s bed was empty. I ran to the front door and threw it open. In the distance I could see the figure of the man, in the same spot he was the last time I saw him, and what I can only assume was my daughter walking towards him. I sprinted my way towards the tree line, and to the stump, but there was no sign of either of them.
Six years later and I haven’t heard from my daughter, or anyone knowing of her location. The police searched the forest, but found nothing, but her harp, lying dead center on the stump. I pray for the best, but the memory of that tune, puts horrid images in my head, whoever that man was, must have been attracted by that song. I can not bring myself to imagine a type of man that would be enchanted by such a tune, but it would be a type of man to stalk a girl in the woods, dressed all in black. With all the other stories I hear in the news of children being abducted and the sick things done to them, I don’t think I can bear to keep living like this.
To this very day, I hear the light notes of the harp echoing from the forest, mocking me, frightening me, and worst of all, reminding me of the little girl that had to play her new harp outside.
