The Cloaked Man

When she awoke, the first thing she saw was the blinding headlights of a car. It was big, blue and if it went any closer, it would hit her. The inside of the car was hard to see, but she could see a man in the driver's seat, looking frightened. In fact, the whole crowd around her was the same. All eyes were on her as she got up and looked at the people by her. She saw all her neighbors whispering to each other, and the sound of telephones ringing. It was hard to distinguish their frantic voices from each other.

The girl recognized a person in the far back, silently making their way through the crowd. “Mom,” said the little girl, “What are you looking at?” Her mother gave no reply. The crowd looked at her as she slowly creeped toward her child. “Mom!” yelled the girl as she leaped into her mother's arms, but instead, she went right through her. She fell into the concrete, but didn't feel a thing. She noticed something odd about her hands. They always looked pale, like a sheet of paper, unlike her mother's which always had a sunburned tint to it. But this time it was more than that, they looked almost see through.

As she picked herself up, she saw that the crowd hadn't moved, and was now looking at her mother, on her knees sobbing on the floor. “Mommy?” She put her hand on her mother's shaking shoulder, but it fell through. The girl jumped up. She tried shaking her mother, hugging her mother, and yelling her name. “MOMMY,” she cried at the top of her lungs, but there was no reply. She ran in front of her mother, waving her hand in front of her teary, green eyes, but they stayed focused on the ground. The girl finally looked down at her feet, and began to sob.

This is Daisy Turner, and she has just died.

Daisy backed away from her lifeless body. She had the same green dress, same messy, dirty blonde hair, and the same ruby shoes she had gotten for her birthday just the other day, but the body was empty, lifeless. She went past the ever talking crowd. Furthermore, she could better hear their conversations as she did. “Poor girl” sighed one neighbor, gripping their child close. “Stupid drunk,” grunted another. No one noticed the girl as she cried behind them.

Her tears dripped off her face, but they didn't hit the floor. What am I supposed to do now, she thought to herself. A million things went through her mind, each more grotesque than the last. “It's over,” she whispered. Her knees fell through. She longed for a scuffed knee, but felt nothing.

The world was silent. Even the loud cries of her mother and the sirens of the police cars in the distance only felt like quiet background noise. I saw her then. As the ambulances and police cars drove in and the crowd departed. She hadn't moved from her place on the floor. I glided toward her. I went past her mother, begging for her daughter back. A part of me was remorseful, but it wasn't like she would see me anyway.

A woman was yelling at the man in the car as he was brought out by the police. And the officers were trying (and falling) to deescalate the situation. Chaos, just like most of these cases.

I finally made it to her. I could tell she noticed me, for she whipped her teary eyes and looked up. The hope in her eyes faded. She tried to find my eyes, but they were obscured by my cloak. I held out my shadow of a hand. Once she figured out who I was, she started to run.

Past the crowds, her feet went as fast as they could. I was clearly the last person she wished to see. Through the yards and homes. There was nowhere to go. She finally stopped by a road. It was in between the shops and the neighborhood. She couldn't imagine never driving down it again. She walked to a power line and sat under it. The Sun was about to set.

“ARFF!” She jumped up. “But it won't see me,” she reminded herself in a melancholy tone. She covered her eyes and tried to rest, ARFF!” The bark sounded closer this time. “ARFF!” She opened her eyes to find a dog between her legs. She rolled her eyes. “Go away.”

The dog licked her face with his slobbery tongue. This time, she could feel it. “Good puppy!” She sat up. She petted its golden fur as it danced around. It looked almost see through… She jolted up. When she turned, she saw me above a dirty, brown box looking down at it. She grabbed the dog, it was just a baby. “Don't hurt us, “she cried. “I don't want to die!” The rotting smell of the box added to the tension of the scene.

I went toward her, and she went back. “Please don't hurt me…” she went quiet and closed her eyes. The dog suddenly jumped from her hands, “DOGGY!” I picked up the dog. Its fur was soft, and his smile was brighter than the setting sun. I slowly pet it. “I won't,” I replied.

She whipped her tears. The dog hurried back to her, full force. The sound of sirens filled the air as ambulances flew by. Her mother was visible through a window. “Bye mommy.” She waved as they came. She took my hand, the puppy in the other. “You're very brave.” She nodded. I raised my scythe, preparing myself for what the other side would be. She couldn't tell, but I was smiling beneath my cloak.