Abandoned Amusement Park

New Orleans

December 17, 2017

1:00 a.m.

Cera laughed as she took a picture of a guy wearing a large Santa beard and a red baseball cap with mistletoe hanging from the brim, trying to get the girls at the party to kiss him.

They all giggled quietly as they pushed him away, holding onto their headphones and shaking their heads. He tugged at his beard, silently asking if, without the beard, they would change their minds. They shook their heads again, dancing to the music they heard playing in their headphones.

"I really thought the Santa angle would work," he said to Cera and she laughed again, taking one more picture of his happy bearded face.

"Well, you had to try," she agreed with a shrug. He nodded as he took off the hat and beard, and put on his black headphones with green rabbit stickers on the sides.

He danced away, joining the group of people also wearing headphones, glow-in-the-dark jewelry, and dancing to music those without headphones could not hear. Cera took a few more pictures before she waved at the DJ and he nodded, silently dancing to the beat of the music he was queuing up.

She looked around the room one last time, proud of the work she and Adam, the DJ, had done earlier: blacking out any light so as not to arouse suspicion of the security guards patrolling the outside area of the abandoned amusement park. The silent rave had been a great idea and she felt happy that she had been the one to suggest it.

Stepping out of the room, she slipped her camera into the pocket of the hoodie, trading it for her low light flashlight. She twisted her hair up and put on her beanie, turned on the flashlight to keep an eye out for alligators. As she continued on toward her post where she would keep an eye out for security and help others get to the party, she looked around with a smile, happy to be in a place that had meant so much to her.

She had been devastated at twelve years old, when Hurricane Katrina hit, not only for the horror it caused her and many others, but also because it forever destroyed the beloved childhood place of fun and escape.

She had mourned for it privately after her endless discussion of it had caused her father to give her a look, one she hated to see. Many times she had wondered what it looked like, left to rot in the Louisiana heat and humidity. Once she was old enough to drive on her own, she had ignored her fears and found a weak spot in the fence. Her heart racing, she had kept looking over her shoulder as she silently walked through the now broken place she had loved as a child.

One time was not enough, and the next time she came, she had brought a digital camera with her, taking pictures of whatever struck her fancy and reminiscing for things that were lost.

When she had told people she had been in the park, they had not understood her desire to be there, calling it creepy and sad. It had been creepy at first, the place quiet, trees growing over the decaying rides and tracks causing her to feel as though the world had ended and she was the lone survivor.

But, the more she went out, the more she had found a strange camaraderie with the sadness held within. Some days she would find a spot and simply sit, thinking about her own time there and the sadness now held within it and the odd happiness it brought her.

"Sad is like happy for deep people," she would say under her breath, smiling as she took her pictures, quoting a line from one of her favorite episodes of Doctor Who.

Once people learned it was her who had been the one sneaking in, they asked to see her photos, too nervous to venture into the park themselves, not wanting to get caught by the police. She had even sold some of them, remaining anonymous by using the name Sally Sparrow, the character from the episode of Doctor Who, who shared her love for the sad and the broken.

Taking a deep breath of the cold December air, she smiled again as she reached one of her favorite things in the park, both then and now: a statue of a woman known as the "wish statue" by locals. It was a statue of a happy smiling woman wearing Mardi Gras beads and a mask, the feather attached to it, broken long ago. She did not know when it became known as the wish statue, but everyone she knew knew it as such.

Making her wish for the night to continue being one everybody enjoyed, she kept on, nearly to her post as she hummed softly to herself.

"Cera Lee!" She heard someone call quietly, startling her out of her reverie, and she looked up. Devin Smith was walking toward her, a low light flashlight in his hand, a small group of people following him as he smiled at her and she smiled back.

"Devin, how are you?"

"Cera Lee, my favorite Cera Lee, far above THE Sara Lee. And nobody doesn't like her and her delicious pound cake," he said with a grin, giving her a hug. "Thank you for making sure all was well for tonight."

"Of course. You know I love coming out here."

"That I do. How many times have you been out here?" he asked with a smile.

"How many times in seven years? Hey look, just because I'm Asian, it doesn't mean I'm good at math, you racist," she teased and he laughed into his hand, covering the sound as they all knew they had to be quiet. She laughed softly and winked at him.

"Well," he said with a cough, "I'll remember not to ask that again." She laughed and he winked at her, causing her to feel butterflies in her stomach.

"Devin… come on man," one of the kids said and he looked back at him with a nod. Turning back to Cera, he smiled and saluted before walking away, the small group following him again.

"Bye," she whispered, putting her flashlight into her pocket and taking out her camera, taking pictures as she watched them walk away.

She smiled as she watched him stop at the wish statue and she caught some more pictures, unable to hear them speaking, but knew he was telling them about making a wish.

One of the boys in the group reached out to touch the statue and a scream pierced the quiet night air. Chills covered her entire body as she watched the boy who had touched the statue, fall to the ground with a heavy thud.

For one second that seemed to last hours, no one moved and then to her complete and utter horror, the wish statue moved and reached an arm out, and the small group around her began to bend toward the ground.

Frozen in place, Cera was unable to scream or call for help. She saw the group on the ground and then screaming filled the air, screams that she could feel throughout her body, her head simultaneously feeling as though it was on fire.

Fighting to remain upright and resist the urge to cover her ears to block out the screams, she watched, her finger unknowingly continuing to press the shutter button on her camera. Then the screaming suddenly stopped and the deafening silence was worse, as she was certain they were all dead.

And then, the statue moved, but was no longer a statue. It looked like an angel, a female angel in a long white flowing dress. Cera gasped and the angel turned her way, apparently hearing her though she was yards away. She began to move towards Cera, silently, as though she was floating.

"Ohhh." Cera heard in her head, felt it all around her, and saw the angel's mouth moving.

As she drew closer, Cera's knees began to fail her. She sunk to the ground, her fingers weakening, lifting from the shutter button, the camera slipping from her hands and falling to the ground with a crash.

"Yes… you will be a wonderful asset," a lilting, terrifying voice said and Cera started to scream, goosebumps covering her body as she began to shake violently.

The dank scent of earth flooded her senses, as laughter filled the air and she started to cry for her mother. The world went black, and the last sound she heard was the continuous click of the camera shutter.