Alice

“Whitney, can you please come and pick me up?” Sarah Marie said into the pay phone, her voice trembling. “I’m scared,”

Sarah had every reason to be. It was Halloween night, 1958, and she stood alone in a dimly lit phone booth on the outskirts of the dense Californian woods. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, and the moon and stars were shrouded behind ominous black clouds. Outside, a dirt road stretched into the darkness, swallowed by the shadows of towering trees.

“Sarah, what happened?” Whitney’s voice crackled through the receiver, laced with concern.

“I did something I should have never done,” Sarah replied, her heart racing.

“You didn’t murder someone, did you?” Whitney joked.

“No!” Sarah snapped, her cheeks flushing with shame.

“Oh my gosh, what did you guys do?” Whitney pressed, her curiosity piqued.

“Nothing,” Sarah said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then what happened?” Whitney asked again, worried.

Sarah sighed, the weight of her choices pressing down on her. “You know that nifty guy at the bar?” she said, her mind racing back to the moment she first saw him.

“The beatnik?” Whitney asked, incredulous.

“Yeah, him,” Sarah admitted.

“What was his name?” Whitney inquired, her voice softening.

Sarah told her, and Whitney replied, “You don’t hear that name anymore.”

“Anyway, he coaxed me to go to Lover’s Lane with him,” Sarah continued, her voice trembling. “He’s twenty-seven, and I told him I’m eighteen. You know that’s a lie. I’m actually seventeen. We talked for a little while. I kissed him on the lips without his consent. He closed his eyes and put his chair back. One thing I noticed about him is he has a tic,”

“A tic?” Whitney asked, her curiosity piqued. “Like what?”

“He was blinking his eyes,” Sarah explained.

After a moment of silence, Whitney asked, “What happened next?”

“He told me to get out and walk home,” Sarah responded, her voice cracking. “Whitney, what am I going to do? My parents will kill me!”

Sarah and Whitney had snuck out of their houses that night. Whitney’s parents were asleep, and Sarah’s mother was visiting her grandmother in San Francisco while her father worked the night shift. Sarah had been infatuated with the beatnik. Now, she felt like a marionette tangled in her own strings.

“Okay, stay there,” Whitney said, her voice steadying. “I’m gonna come and get you.”

“Please hurry,” Sarah pleaded, glancing nervously at the car with its headlights glaring in the distance. “I just stepped out to get some fresh air, and there’s a car. I don’t want to keep them waiting,”

“Is the driver a man or a woman?” Whitney asked, her voice low.

“I can’t tell,” Sarah replied, her heart pounding. “They’re too far away,”

“Do you want to stay on the line with me?”

“It will only let us talk for one more minute,”

“Okay,” Whitney said, her thoughts swirling. “I just remembered. There’s a bus stop nearby. I don’t know where the telephone booth is, Sarah. You’re going to have to walk there,”

“Okay, bye,” Sarah said, her voice barely above a whisper.

As she hung up, the dial tone echoed in her ears. She stepped out into the cold night, the chill biting at her skin. The car remained, its headlights cutting through the darkness like a predator stalking its prey.

“It’s all yours, buddy!” Sarah yelled.

She started walking toward the bus stop, her mind racing. The last bus had come at ten o’clock; it was now midnight. Fairvale was a safe town, or so she thought. People walked and drove wherever they wanted, never locking their doors. But as she glanced back, the light blue sedan crept closer.

Somewhere in the distance, the voice of Judy Garland floated through the air, singing:

Somewhere over the rainbow,

Way up high,

There’s a land that I heard of,

Once in a lullaby...

The song, once a source of comfort, now twisted in her mind, filling her with dread. Fear had become her worst enemy.

She continued walking, but the car wouldn’t stop. Maybe if I went into the woods, I could lose them, Sarah thought, her heart pounding in her chest. She glanced back at the driver, their face obscured by the darkness, and bolted, her instincts screaming at her to run. The sound of a car door opening and slamming shut echoed in the stillness, sending a jolt of adrenaline through her veins. The trees loomed like sentinels as she plunged into the underbrush, branches clawing at her blue dress and white socks.

The cold air stung her cheeks, but she didn’t care; all she wanted was to escape. The haunting melody of the song faded behind her, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the crunch of twigs underfoot. As she ran deeper into the woods, the moonlight flickered through the branches, casting eerie shadows that danced around her. She could feel the weight of unseen eyes watching her, the forest alive with creatures that seemed to mock her plight. “Oh, how I wish you could help me,” she thought, desperation clawing at her throat.

Suddenly, she stumbled into a small clearing, her breath coming in ragged gasps. A murky swamp lay before her, the water reflecting the dim light of the moon. A small toad jumped into the water with a soft plop, and beside it, an old radio crackled to life, blaring a haunting tune. The familiar melody sent a shiver down her spine, and she murmured, “Why would this be playing here?” The song, once a sweet reminder of love, now felt like a cruel taunt.

She turned around, her heart sinking as she saw a tall figure emerging from the shadows, a glint of metal catching the moonlight. The figure held a knife. Panic surged through her, and without thinking, she bolted into the swamp, the cold water splashing against her legs as she fought to keep moving. The figure pursued her, splashing through the muck, their footsteps heavy and relentless. “Keep running!” her mind screamed, urging her to push through the thick mud that clung to her shoes like a vice.

As she stumbled deeper into the swamp, the sounds of the forest faded, replaced by the pounding of her heart and the rush of adrenaline. She could no longer hear the figure behind her, but the fear of being caught propelled her forward. They must have drowned, she thought, a fleeting sense of hope igniting within her. Good riddance, freak. But as she paused to catch her breath, the oppressive silence of the swamp enveloped her, and the shadows seemed to close in around her.

She could feel the weight of her choices pressing down on her, the shame of her actions mingling with the fear of what lay ahead. All she wanted was to be back home, safe in her warm bed, away from the darkness that threatened to consume her. Suddenly, a rustling sound broke the stillness, and Sarah’s heart dropped. She turned, her breath hitching in her throat, and saw the figure emerging from the shadows once more. The knife glinted menacingly in the dim light, and Sarah’s instincts kicked in again.

She turned and ran, her legs moving on pure adrenaline. “Help! Somebody help me!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the trees, but the only response was the mocking silence of the night. The swamp seemed to close in around her, the water pulling at her legs as if trying to drag her down into its depths. As she ran, memories flooded her mind—her parents’ laughter, the warmth of her home, the innocence of her childhood. She thought of Whitney, her best friend, and the bond they shared, fueling her resolve.

“I can’t let this be the end,” she thought fiercely, determination igniting within her. “I don’t want to die!” Sarah pushed through the muck, her heart racing as she searched for a way out. The figure was still behind her, but she refused to look back, focusing instead on the narrow path ahead. Finally, she spotted a faint glow of moonlight beckoning her forward, and she sprinted toward it, her breath coming in ragged gasps.