David
He was a coma patient who had caused more trouble than he was worth.
Her favorite red leather jacket was doing little to curb the cold. Mary must have been frozen, still wearing a light sundress with sandals. Graham led the small group of rescuers, one hand on his gun, the other holding the flashlight.
"Graham!" Mary Margaret suddenly shouted. She was at the back, and Emma was in the middle. The other two turned around to see Mary running through the forest.
"Troll bridge." Graham muttered, grabbing Emma's hand and tugging her along. Emma could hear the steady trickle of a stream, and she sped up, breaking away from Graham's grip. Mary Margaret was hunched over a body face down in the water, a paper thin hospital gown floating around his knees. Normally Emma would have winced or stone something to cover him up, but right now she couldn't care less.
Emma helped Mary pull the man up onto the pebbles on his back, and as Mary fell beside him, hands compressed over his chest, Emma had a startling wave of déjà vu. But Emma had never been here before, had never seem this bridge before.
The man had a wife who said that his name was David Nolan. But even as Emma went home that night, trying to ignore Mary's vacant stare and her glossed eyes, Emma fell into bed and dreamt of David Nolan, dressed in a white blouse, tight pants and wielding a sword.
Emma woke at 2:56am screaming for her parents, parents she had never known.
drop your reviews! This took about 10 minutes at an Italian restaurant so it's probably not my best work...
No white horse for me
