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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2096986
What if a legend really isn't just a legend
I know you probably haven't heard of my little town, it only has a population of about twenty three hundred. Any way, it has a legend, a sad legend. I can't recall how long ago, though it was many years ago. A young woman on her way home one night, a foggy night, approached a bridge while driving. Due to the heavy fog she missed the the bridge, driving her car down the embankment, flipping her car onto the railroad tracks below. Unable to get her and her child out, they sat there alone, on the dark, cold, and fog covered railroad. A train eventually came and struck the car with the woman and her child inside. Neither one of them survived. Now that you know the legend, I will now tell you what happened to me and my friends, well at least my friends.
It was close to graduation, maybe a couple weeks away. My friends and I decided to have a guys night out before the big celebrations. We was already a few beers deep when one of my friends suggested going to the “Old Bono Bridge”. We all knew the legend, the risk, and the danger. Stupidly we agreed, driving drunk we almost crashed three times. By the time we made it to the bridge a dense fog was setting in. “Hey, so what time is this supposed to happen?” one of my friends asked drunkenly. “Two, three. Something like that.” I replied. It was around one thirty when we got there, so we bullshit with each other. We smoked some weed, drank some more beers and a little bit of bourbon I stole from my dad's stash. The air seemed to get colder, thinner as the time crept along. Amidst the laughter, dick and “yo momma” jokes a piercing, visceral sound ripped through the night.
“Holy shit dude, I think I just pissed myself.” one of my friends said, unsure if he did or didn't. The sound came again from the distance, the eerie creepy distance that seemed to disappear into the fog, only to re-emerge from the thick silky lake like a hungry shark. “Goddamn man, that shit is loud as fuck.” looking around my friends whispered, “What the hell is that?” I wasn't near as drunk as they were, “It's just a fucking train, get it together guys.” I said annoyed at their stupidity. “Oh shit, it's almost two.” Now according to legend, if you stand on the bridge, holding onto the railing and look down as a train passes under the bridge on a foggy night, you can see the young woman searching for her child.
Suddenly a bright light broke the the night, splitting it apart as if the light was Moses and the night was the Red Sea. It was blinding and seemed to have a comforting warmth to it. I noticed that the fog below us started to stir, taking on a life of its own almost. The closer the light got, the louder the train engine became, the colder the air got, then suddenly another noise broke into the night. It wasn't something that you would expect to her, it was a girl. She was crying. We searched the fog down below, frantically trying to find the owner of the weeping. Nothing. The air drastically changed, quickly. It became very cold, almost solid and time appeared to have stopped. The light from the train stopped, as if it was trapped in a large block of ice. Even the air we exhaled lingered slower than usual, almost becoming frozen in mid air.
Something in the fog began to glint, then strobe slowly, and eventually bursting into existence with a glorious blue flare. The crying started again, and then we saw her. A young beautiful woman, wearing a white dress emerged from the ungodly fog. Her hair was a fair blonde, like that of freshly bailed hay. Her hair flowed in a gently breeze, one that was unknown to us. She walked along the tracks, crying and asking “Where is my baby, can anyone help me find my baby? Please.” “Damn, that bitch got some big tits!” “No shit, man. I would totally tap that ass!” I punched my two idiot friends, “Are you fucking serious?” I was too late, she had already heard them. She looked directly at them, not saying a word but instead continues weeping and looking for her child. “I will be right back.” “Dude, seriously what the hell?” “Trust me, I will be right back.” I made my way down the embankment carefully, slipping on the wet grass and losing my balance ever so often. I had to feel my way down with my feet, finally the hard cold rails.
I stood and made my to the ghostly woman, “I will help you, what does your baby look like, what's your child's name?” She said nothing, she only looked at me with a relief in her eyes, a very loving look. Just by looking into her fiery green eyes, I felt as if I had just fallen in love. I was not afraid of her, I welcomed her. The kindness she evoked and the love was incredible, she then looked at my two friends on the bridge with a harsh, cold scolding glare that was the complete opposite of what I felt. “Get the fuck out of there, get out of there you son of a bitch!” one of my friends yelled. I turned to look back at the woman, she smiled, “Look out, the train is coming.” She pushed me off the tracks and then in the blink of an eye the train went screaming by, sounding it's blaring horn as it passed under the bridge.
I heard my friends yelling and freaking out. “Fuck, Fuck, holy shit! That was a rush.” they yelled, “Dude, are you okay?” “Yes.” I solemnly replied. Feeling uneasy and somehow fulfilled, I climbed my way back up to where my friends were waiting, “Let's go home.” We drove home and went to sleep. The next day I was awakened to the sound of my mother crying. I made my way to the kitchen where she was sitting with my friend's mothers. “What the hell is going on?” “Sit down, honey.” Cautiously and curiously I pulled out a chair and sit, “What's wrong?” I said as I extended my arm to grab the coffee pot. “Honey, your friends had an accident this morning.” I pulled the coffee pot to the table and poured myself a hot cup of coffee. “Are they okay, where did it happen?” My friends mom placed her hand on mine, “They was going to see their girlfriends.” I starred at her, “What happened?” I said with trepidation in my voice. “They was going down highway sixty three, and something hit their truck. The truck was torn in half.” “Goddamn it, goddamn it, are they okay?” With tears in her eyes, my friends' other mom said, “No. the police said the damage is consistent with a train versus car collision.”
© Copyright 2016 Ray Allister (darktardis16 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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