Ghost
Splashing water. The sound of footsteps trampling over tree bark.
He knew he had to keep moving, or they would find him.
He jumped down from the mossy rock he was crouched on and landed in leg-deep water. It was cold in the night, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting out of the forest, away from people he thought he would never be fleeing.
The moonlight shone down on the man. His black curly hair was starting to grow wild, but at least he remembered to shave the previous day. He continued to wade through the water. Luckily up ahead was what he was looking for- the perfect hiding spot.
Then, he heard a dog bark. Of course they would be using dogs to track him. Any person with his "reputation" would be worth the trouble to hunt down. The angry thought of it pushed him forward as he climbed up the moist bank.
A flashlight cut through the darkness behind him and illuminated his back. The young man turned back and saw the officer dressed in black. Black flashlight, black uniform, black and brown dog. Behind them he could see more people approaching, two also with flashlights and dogs.
"Over there!" the lead officer shouted. The other flashlights were trained on the man, but he was gone by then.
The man, who was in his 20s, had used his agility to slam himself under a large rock a few feet from the water's edge. The hiding place wouldn't last long, but it gave him an added bonus of being close to what he came to find. It lay a couple of yards to the left of the rock.
"Come out now! We know you're there, so don't play games!" one of the officers called out.
Thinking quickly, the man unzipped the orange jumpsuit he had been wearing. He shoved the bulk of it under the rock, leaving a leg sticking out. It was dumb, yes, but he hoped it would fool them or at least their dogs. Lights flashed from behind the rock, and the man couldn't tell if they were flashlights or possibly a car that had been driving behind the officers, somehow making its way through the woods.
He darted left towards another lake of water. This time he only went in up to his ankles. The water and weather didn't bother him, even in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. His attention was focused on the object in front of him. The object he came for.
The wreck of a small wooden boat lay half sunken in the dark liquid. Forces of nature had already taken care of the seats, but the hull was still there.
He turned to the right and saw the rest of the place. The house and storage shed were there like he remembered. They were decaying like the boat, yet stood against the moss and vines that grew on them.
And then the memories came back like a flood.
A happy couple, standing on this exact same shore almost a year ago. The man had only been a year younger, but it felt like an eternity ago. He was dressed in simple clothes that didn't come close to what the young woman was wearing.
She was beautiful, and the man knew it. Wavy blond hair and a childlike face that he would never forget. She wore a sea-green dress. Her blue eyes contrasted with his dark brown ones.
Then, a boat ride across the little lake. It had seemed so beautiful that day. She was playing with a little yellow flower that she had picked from the front of the house. The boat went nowhere, but both of them didn't care. She dragged her finger in the water to create a line that, like the day, seemed to never end.
Conversations and jokes filled their time on the water. The experience only further convinced him that this was the lady for him. Never before had he met someone so amazing or experienced this kind of love.
Finally, the two standing on the shore. The boat was bobbing on the bank near the house. Another lazy afternoon well spent. However, the man wanted it to be different this time.
He wrapped his arms around the lady, but she wasn't surprised at all. Pulling her closer, he made the move that he had wanted to make for so long, but couldn't bring himself to.
That was a moment he would never forget.
A year later, in that exact spot, the man's grief was overcome by anger. He knew all too well what happened three days later. The police had found her body lying in the shallow water just inches from where the kiss happened. Strangled to death, was that they said. He couldn't control his emotions after he heard the news.
The following months were a blur of yet more emotions. He couldn't believe who the police said the main suspect was. It just seemed wrong that they, of all people, would blame him! Her lover, her protector. Once the decision had been made and the trial over, he decided that he would not spend the rest of his life a prisoner.
The thought of finding the true killer pulled him on, as if it were some kind of ghost calling to him. Her ghost.
He would avenge her.
The man squinted in the distance and saw the motel. If his tip-off was correct, this would be where it happened. The moment when he would bring justice to the wrongdoer who had wrecked his life.
A red neon sign outside read "Motel". It was surrounded by a light blue arrow pointing downwards. To the man, it was like the sign was calling to him.
As he started to walk down the street, he heard the sound he would be dreading. Police sirens wailing like animals that have targeted their prey. He began to run, but who can run from the police inconspicuously? With a squeal of tires, three police cars had turned at the intersection and were heading right at him.
A minute later, he found himself in the hotel parking lot. The police cars had stopped in the middle of the street and some officers were getting out. They looked armed and dangerous.
The man found it so ironic what was going on. Here were a bunch of people who thought they were going to bring justice to those who deserved it. He was going to do just that! And all they saw him as was a dangerous animal that needed to be recaptured? Bah! If only they knew the truth!
He ran up the stairs to the second floor. Doors flashed by as he darted to number 144. The white door was all that stood in the way between him and sweet revenge.
The man collected his thoughts in those moments. He pulled his remaining strength together, readying himself for the kick. The ghost of her urged him on. He had come all this way, through a dangerous forest and many streets. It was too late to just give up. He would never give up- she would never have.
With a loud bam, the door was kicked open. He entered the home cautiously, although it was obvious that the man inside heard the commotion. Sweat covered the young man's face as he took in his surroundings. The motel room had a lighting that reminded him of a bar almost. A gentle yellow glow came from a lamp in the room to his left. He balled his hands into fists, anger pushing him on despite his fear.
Then, he saw him.
Well-built, muscular, with colored tattoos scattered over his shirtless body. Dark brown eyes, disheveled dark hair, and a wild beard.
The young man stared into the shocked eyes of her killer.
The bearded man was standing in front of an oval mirror that was set up vertically. Photos of young women lined the rim. Some were black and white, others in color, but one stood out to the young man. It was torn in half and lying on a table in front of the mirror. The picture was of a lady with blond hair and a youthful face. The initials E.H. were written in Sharpie on the bottom of a half of the photo.
In the young man's mind, the scene was frozen. Every detail meant something. The red walls had a sinister look in the lamplight. Oddly, a large crucifix was nailed near to the mirror. Opposites collided in that tense scene.
As the young man faced the bearded man, he knew one thing was for certain. Her ghost had driven him on to find the killer. He had made some stupid mistakes- the biggest one being the escape itself. But it was all to prove his innocence and to bring justice to the one who killed her. He didn't care if the police recaptured him or shot him up. He didn't care if he didn't have enough time to deal with the bearded man.
The young man knew one thing was for certain.
He had avenged himself.
He had avenged her.
I keep going to the river to pray,
'Cause I need something that can wash out the pain
And at most, I'm sleeping all these demons away,
But your ghost, the ghost of you, it keeps me awake