The white lady

I think I’m going to die but before that happens I have to explain how. Have you ever heard the story of the white lady ghost? Supposedly she's a woman who, either by divorce or death, lost her husband and in extreme grief kills her children and herself. The way she dies is important, usually, it is through some form of drowning. For instance, she drowns her children then she jumps off a bridge to her own watery grave. Now let me tell you why I'm going to die.

I never use to believe in spirits or demon or ghost or anything of that nature. Until I met her. For some context, I left in a safe and quiet part of town down the street from an old Victorian style bridge. You see where this is going right? I like to jog late at night, I work late normally so it was the only time I could exercise. I regret ever leaving the house that night.

She was faced away from me at first but even that filled me with an odd sense of dread that I couldn't quite place. With each step I took, it felt like my shoes were filling up with lead and my whole body was heavier. At first, I was worried she was hurt or maybe confused but as I got closer I realized just how wrong I was. First, her long black hair was covered in a thick oily liquid that was pooling at her bare feet with a sickening squishing. Her nightgown was white but was now tattered and muddy at the bottom which reached just below her knee. I still don’t know what possessed me to call out to her. Even though every fiber of my being was screaming at me to run I just brushed it aside as paranoia.

I barely finished calling out to her before I saw her slowly turn her head toward me. I can only describe the feeling that washed over me as paralyzing fear. Her skin was cracked and fractured skin spiderwebbed out at small points on her face. Her eyes were worse. I wouldn't even consider them eyes. It was just that black liquid seemed to pool in her eye sockets and slowly spill down her discolored cheeks. I was frozen in sheer terror as a slow smile cracking across her face. She started to speak but it sounded like she was underwater choking on her own words.

The more she spoke the more of that viscous fluid poured out of her mouth. Then she started to move towards me. Each step looked painful, the sounds of her bones cracking echoed in the painful silence. Her neck kept twisting and cracking while the rest of her seemed to bend in disturbingly unnatural ways. I tried to run or scream or hell even cry but I couldn’t. She wouldn’t let me. Once she was in front of me she moved her face inches away from mine. I could see everything now. The way her skin sagged with a sickening green color. The way the black liquid was just bubbling under the cracks of her face seeping out wherever it could. The smell was the worse, it was like rotting meat. If I wasn't so f*****g terrified I would have immediately thrown up.

She whispered the same words over and over again. To me, it simply sounded like someone choking on water. She suddenly grabbed both my arms and I could feel her boney decayed hands clawing into me. I tried to speak or scream but all that I could manage was more like a whimper. She just smiled in return like she was trying to comfort me? Or maybe she enjoyed how scared I was. Regardless I felt like I could move again and I moved faster than I ever have in my life. I ran as hard and as fast as I could without falling. My lungs burned and screamed at me to slow down but I couldn't, not with her behind me. As I was sprinting away I stupidly looked back but she was gone. Any trace of her existence was gone like a bad dream that leaves a bad aftertaste.

Eventually, I made it back home and rushed to lock every single door and window. I was f*****g terrified. Yet ever since then I keep going back. I can’t stop. It's like some invisible force is calling me back to her. I know what she said that night. Even though the gurgles and oil I knew. She said join me. I’m going back to the bridge tonight. Maybe I’ll even bring along my son.

Author's Note

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