The White Woman

The plump French baker rambled frightfully about “The White Woman” who dwelled near the village Peurye. He went on and on about how no one had ever made it passed the bridge. Called, “neuf de le cats”. Because only nine cats had made it across and that was more than one hundred years prior. No human had ever dared to cross the bridge; those who did surely met their fate.

“Don’t worry Monsieur. We will be fine. Could you just tell us how to get to the village Beauvais?” Marissa begged impatiently. Only two weeks in France, then they were to head back to the States. She did not want to waste excess time listening to some paranoid Frenchman go on about some hoax.

“Ahh, Beauvais.” The French baker rubbed his chin thoughtfully. As if, he had some distant memory. “Oui, it should take you no less than one half hour.” He began to tell which roads to take and which roads not to take. Marissa feverishly scrawled the information on a souvenir piece of paper. “And,” He added at the end. “Do not take any roads, which are not on the map. Tu comprend?” He pointed his sausage-thick finger into their faces.

***

“Boy! That baker sure is…” Tom made a loco sign with his finger and whistled as he got into the little VW Beetle.

Marissa laughed back. “Yeah, I guess.” She slumped into the passenger seat of the vehicle. “But, did you hear anything he said? You know, about the mysterious woman at the bridge. They say she is a ghost of some woman who has a grudge with the settlers who had built the bridge. Back in the—“ She shut the door slowly.

“Don’t tell me you fell for that hypocrisy!” He laughed, “There are many rumors floating around these days. None of which are true. Ghosts and haunted places do not exist. I know. I have done the research. Most of these people, who have claimed to see these...things, are mentally disturbed. Most of whom who’ve had a rough past.” Tom instructed in his professor type voice.

“Yeah, you are talking about half the world. Most likely three-fourths of America has all of those exact problems, not to mention you.” Marissa chuckled.

***

She looked forward. The end of the road was clearly visible. “You’re lost. Maybe you should have turned onto the road we passed a moment ago?” “Are you sure? Is that road on the map?” He questioned. Marissa squinted as she studied the map. “No, I don’t see it.”“Ugh…” Tom grunted. “We’re gonna have to turn back.”“Or,” Marissa added. “This road may not be on this map…but,” she glanced down. “See? It says 1999. Five years ago, it is the date on here. This road could really exist. Besides, it is most likely a short cut. That French baker is probably just paranoid. You know, read too many ghost stories.”

***

The road seemed to go on for eternity. Trees lined both sides. The sound of gravel and dirt crunched beneath the little car’s tires.Breaking the deathly silence, Tom said with a start. “Hey, I think I see something.” He acknowledged seeing a clearing ahead. “Maybe it’s the village.” He thought aloud, hopeful. However, all too soon his hopeful voice turned shaky. “What did the French baker say again?” Marissa looked up from the map. “I think he said…” She stopped. She saw it too. A glowing figure, almost human looking, stood in the center of the bridge. A flowing white dress cascaded down to the ground. The figure turned slightly, and then began to glide towards Tom and Marissa.

The Mocking Cactus

15:03 In the Sahara Desert

All the strength seemed to dissipate in Ben. He felt as though he would faint. He stumbled a couple paces and fell to the ground. “Oh God!” He wailed as all of the memories flashed like a fast-forwarding movie in his mind. Some of those memories made him smile, and some made him want to cry. All this…his life, seemed so worthless now.

Through blurred vision, he gazed at a cactus in the distance. Shade! Well, a little shade! Even if an inch, it would be worth it. As he neared to the cactus, an image appeared to his left. “What?” He said, choking on the sandpaper feel in his throat. Maybe he was seeing things. He inched his way closer. Almost there!

Again, he saw the image. He looked towards where he had seen it. He pleaded, hoping that it was a person, “Help!” There was no one. He leaned his back against the somewhat shaded sand beside the cactus. For a second he felt relief. Suddenly, he felt as though he was in another room. He was well. His throat did not hurt anymore. “What?” He said, his baritone voice echoing through the room. Marble glistened on the floors, in many hues of red, blue, white, and grey. A dark stained oak staircase wound up many feet high to his right. Curiosity welled up inside of him. Was he in Heaven? Or Hell? No, could not be. Could it? He moved his feet closer to the staircase. He reached out his hand to touch it, to feel if it was real. On the other hand, was this all a dream? A very nice dream at that! The wood felt smooth and polished. He caressed his hand and fingers up the staircase

BAM!!!!! He tumbled backwards down the stairs. Only to awake from his daydream to have his face stuck in the sand. “Ohhh.” He groaned loudly. What a good dream! He looked up from the sand to the cactus. It perched ten feet above him. The sandy slope that he had fell down seemed to mock him. “Oh how stupid!” He scolded himself. The hot sun was surely getting to him.

He looked back up to the cactus. Still, it seemed as a beckon of hope. A home away from home. He wanted that shade! His mind raced. His heart beat faster. With every effort left in his body, he began to climb up the sandy slope. His foot slipped numerous times. Ah, a foot away. He could almost touch it…no, that would be painful. Still! “SHADE, HERE I COME!”

When he finally made it to the cactus, he slumped down beside it. Though being careful of the prickly ouchies that covered the green plant. For he did not really need any other obstacles. Such as, well, “booboos”. Talking to himself he began, “Why, you stupid fool! How could you have fallen for such tricks? What is wrong with you?” He bonged his head with his hand. Then, interrupting his blabbering, he saw something in the distance yet again. It looked like, a camp! Wait, he had fallen for this before; was not about to again! Even if it were yet another hallucination…at least he would enjoy his final moments. It looked as if there were a couple jeeps along with much other equipment. “Well, I’m gonna check it out. I’ll prove it’s not real! You see brain? I’ll show you!” He pointed to his own noggin and made his way back down the sandy slope.

When he finally neared the camp, he came to the first jeep. Keys still stuck in the ignition. “Ah ha! I know. You’re trying to mess with me again aren’t you?” He spoke again to himself. He was not going to fall for one trick twice. No sir. He dug his hand into his jean pocket, pulling out his Gerber top of the line pocketknife. He drew his hand up, and slammed it into the front wheel tire. “That ought ‘a do it.” He mocked aloud. Just then, he began to hear a faint “ssssssss” come from the tire. He chuckled, “Yes, I knew it! Muahahaha!”

Then he heard screaming. “What?” He looked up. A man ran towards him with a rifle pointed in his direction. The man began to shout some senseless gibberish. Possibly French. Maybe Italian? Ah, he did not know. He was never good at that stuff in school.





by: Kelly Jacobsen

First Post =)

Well, this page seems so vacant. :S
So, I am adding the first post. Yay! heheh.
So, today was a good day. I walked with my brother and mom to the Target.
It was great. I got a ton of chocolate and candy ^^ Of course it's not all mine.
Oh oh! I tried this chocolate, the kind is "Lindt", a Swiss brand. MMM it was/is so good. I even saved some extra.
Ohhhh, this song. The Climb by Miley Cyrus. That is such a good song, the best one I'd say by her.
Hmmm...nothing really much else to say.
Till next time,
kel