The grass under my feet rustled an uneven rhythm as I approached the entrance to my caravan. I halted at the door to straighten my back and slap myself on the cheek a few times before carefully pushing it open. All too aware of each creak of the hinges, I slid through the door and glimpsed the silhouette of my mother. She was already awake…

“Shit…” I muttered under my breath.

“Welcome home, Booze Breath. You have a fun time?” She looked me up and down, scowling. “Sure looks like it…I hope so; now you get to spend tomorrow tutoring your brothers and sister.” She paused, brows furrowed. “This look you’ve got going on reminds me of your dad.” 

I groaned, quick to bury the comment about my father down deep. Why was it now my responsibility to teach them to read? Why did she have to be awake?

I must not have hidden my frustration very well; before I’d replied, Mom demanded, “Better start thinking of dinner ideas for tomorrow, too.”

My arms dropped to my sides as I opened my mouth to retort, but even in my drunken stupor, I decided against it. Cutting my losses, I stumbled to my bed, careful not to wake my sister in the bed next to mine. 

Immediately upon waking, my head pounded relentlessly. I pulled the sheets up, covering my eyes. My mouth was full of sand, my stomach a whirlpool. I am in no shape to tutor four kids today…

“Mica, Mica, Mica!” Rosella chanted to the beat of her bouncing on my bed, “Mom said you’re in charge today! Can we go swimming in the creek? I want to go find Maria; she promised she had candy for me-”

“Please stop bouncing.” I was going to hurl.

Rosella is the only one in my family I feel close to, even with our nearly fifteen-year age gap. I’d go as far as to say she’s the only one I truly cared about. Rosella didn’t judge me. She didn’t care how I spent my time or who I spent it with; she only wanted to have fun with me, to impress me. I was the first one she told when she caught that crawdad in the creek. She came to me when she got hurt. She was also the only one who didn’t remember our dad… It was easy to be around her.

Usually, I’d have more patience with her; I never wish to crush her spirit. But today, the alcohol in my belly had sapped my tolerance before I even opened my eyes. 

I threw off my sheets and ran to the bathroom, barely in time to expel the toxic swirl from my body. I washed my mouth and chugged water from the sink - the fuzziness started to diminish, only subtly. After getting dressed, I passed Noah, Elijah, and Lucas’ shared room and knocked - “Wake up dudes, we’re studying today.” Whining echoed through the cracks of the door.

I gathered the books we’d read - The Giving Tree, Where the Wild Things Are, One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish… good enough. Grabbing a blanket from the couch, making sure I didn’t swipe one from my snoozing mother, I made for the door.

The sunlight seared my eyes upon my exit, sending my head throbbing once again. I hate today. Begrudgingly, I spread the blanket over the grass and waited with my eyelids shut. A few moments later, Rosella giggled before the door swung open for my four pupils to stride outside and sit down. Let the learning commence.

Unsurprisingly, Rosella was the only one sounding out words and commenting on the stories. My brothers didn’t feign interest for long before going off to play.

Nobody on the encampment had a proper education, myself included. My siblings and I have only learned to cook, clean, and forage. My mother and I were some of the only people here who knew how to read; you’d be lucky to see children passing the time with books. Seeing them chasing the cows or stealing crops is much more typical.

  I didn’t bother to scold the boys; I didn’t mind spending this moment with Rosella.

Though my body felt horrendous, I enjoyed her remarks about the tales we read. Noah, Elijah, and Lucas eventually returned to the picnic blanket, catching their breath. They continued to ignore the lesson, panting, but soon I heard them begin to whisper to one another. 

“I heard they haven’t found any bodies, just a bunch of bloody clothes. Only girls too. The suspect in the paper looks like a creep. I bet he-”

“Hey!” I yelled, hastily. “Cut it out; that shit isn’t funny. Those girls do have a family,  you know. Don’t be gross.” I glanced at Rosella. She remained blissfully unaware, flipping through the pages of Where the Wild Things Are. 

Things have been tense in the community. Several young, young girls are missing. The consensus is kidnapping, but the tiny, bloody clothes haven’t instilled much hope. Replacing the missing girls is a strange new face, a man that nobody seems to recognize. It’s abnormal for newcomers to stroll into a rural town like this without an introduction. There weren’t many newcomers, to begin with. 

My heart twisted, “Let’s just go back home; it’s getting late, and I need to cook dinner. Since you couldn’t bother trying, please tell Mom how good I am at teaching, okay? You had fun!? Sell it, please.”

We arrived home to Mom on the couch, still asleep. Not a blanket out of place. Rosella trailed behind me in the kitchen, contemplating the stories we’d read that day.

“Do you think fish can really drive? One of the fish had a car!” Dr. Seuss drew out some meaningful questions.

I half listened as I continued cooking, eventually sagging into my chair when I finally set the finished plates on the dining table by the couch. My eyelids were heavy as the rest of the family carried on conversation. Once each plate was clean, Rosella set off for bed, and the boys returned to their den while Mom never moved from the sofa.

“So, you gonna keep whoring around, drinking yourself blind?” my mother's first words to me today.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my fingers that she didn’t catch it, “Nobody is ‘whoring’ around. I’m a grown adult; why do you care? Is sleeping all day any better? I just want to hang out with my friends. It’s mostly girls; we just like to be out of the house.” Away from you.

“I care so much because I want you to be better than me… and your dad. You don’t get to scold me for how I spend my time. I’m your mother! I just want you to do better than me. Accomplish something. Don’t wind up a drunk like him. If you want to keep living like this, go ahead, it can be wonderful, just trust your better judgment.” 

Right. She cares because she wants what's best for me, whatever. I stood from my chair and hobbled back to mine and Rosella's room without looking back at her. I wasn’t ready to admit how much it scared me to leave our community despite how much I wanted to. 

In our room, Rosella was wailing before I could even consider collapsing into my lovely, snug bed. Maybe this was karma for blowing off my Mom like that. I shuffled to Rosella, ignoring the beckon of my lush bed. 

“It’s gonna take me,” she wept, “I can’t sleep here Mica, it’s under my bed! I saw it last night in my dreams and now it’s here- it’s gonna take me!” she sobbed and sobbed. No amount of nightlights or bedtime stories would calm her down. I blamed my brothers for talking about those girls in from of her; no doubt they’d put this fear into her mind.

Her cries drew our mother's attention, who finally offered for Rosella to sleep in her room tonight. I let out a sigh of relief. 

My eyelids drooping already, I sank into bed and fell asleep before my head met the soft pillow. 

My eyes flicked open. I could tell it wasn’t time to get up; my bones were still heavy with sleep, my cheeks still warm and wrinkled from my pillow. The clock read two in the morning.

Still, something in my gut coaxed me out of bed. I rose, my movements slow and heavy; my body cracked and popped as I stretched my arms over my head. I stood to exit my room, legs leaden as I stumbled down the hall toward the main room. I peered around the corner at the couch to ensure my mother and Rosella slept soundly. 

I stared briefly, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I only counted one large lump on the couch…

My vision focused, and my heart dropped.

My sister wasn’t there.

The nest of blankets next to my mother was empty. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Maybe she chose to sleep with the boys? I rushed to their room to no avail. The three boys slept peacefully. Without Rosella. My initial worry bloomed into a full-fledged panic; I ran down the hall and stormed out of the caravan, not caring who I awoke. 

“Rosella? Hey, where are you!” I called, my voice floating down the autumn breeze, the cool air biting my skin. Only the chirping of crickets and rustling of branches bothered to respond. At least fifty other caravans stood throughout the lush, open field. All people I know and care for. Tonight, the soft, warm glow of their lights did nothing to soothe the anxiety billowing in my core.

Tonight, it felt like something stained the land. The fog swirled wickedly, the drifting shadows were too swift. I was not alone.

I counted the seconds between each breath, trying to calm the pounding that had migrated from my head to my chest. I managed to walk a few yards from our caravan and into the dusk. My head whipped toward each rustle, whoosh, and whisper in the night.

Crack. Rshrsh.

This one was close, too distinct… the sounds skittered from the treeline and drifted closer, closer, closer. 

Thumpthumpthump. Please be Rosella. Thumpthumpthump. She’s simply playing a fucked up game of hide-and-seek. I eased my way toward the sound. Thumpthumpthump.

My gaze fell upon the tree trunks at my front, drinking in the deep, patterned gashes in the bark. What animal does that? Past the gouged marks in the trees, I could scarcely make out a figure in the distance, much too tall to be Rosella. Two eyes glared back at me, blindingly bright.

A scream pierced through the quiet of the evening. My breathing ceased.

Then I ran.

I sprinted away from the scream. Not toward it, not to help. What if that was Rosella? God, I’m an indisputable coward. I shook the thought out of my head; it could have easily been a coyote or, or- or a fox. Something. But not her, not Rosella. That scream had sent ice through my veins, it was quite an uncanny sound for a fox, but I couldn’t allow myself to think otherwise. Had I even heard a scream at all? I didn’t dare ponder those eyes deep in the forest. My focus shifted back to Rosella; she was safe in bed back at home. I must be so fogged from my slumber that I made the entire thing up. I must have. I pictured her enveloped in the blankets right next to Mom. 

The run felt like an eternity; I nearly slammed into the door when I finally arrived at my haven. I rushed inside and put my back to the door, gasping for air and once again reassuring myself that Rosella was safe and sound.

Those reassurances were kicked and stomped down as I marked my mother’s figure in the room, rubbing her eyes.

“Are you kidding me? You seriously went back out? God dammit it’s been hardly a day since you got in trouble - wait. Where is your sister? Did she come to your room?”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Um.. n-no. She never came to our room. I don’t know where she is… I was out looking for her.” It was all the information I could offer up. I read the concern in her answering look. The guilt surged through me; I shouldn’t have run away.

The room remained silent, the air tinged with dread. How long had Rosella been gone? There was only one place for my mind to wander. What if she’d been taken by whoever took those other girls? She’d be too scared to roam off alone; I’d been hysteric in my time alone in the twilight.

My mother tossed on the closest jacket and stepped outside with no reply. My instincts rejected the thought of returning to that darkness, setting the writhing anxiety back into motion. Despite the unease, I couldn’t let my mother search for Rosella alone. 

We went door to door along the sea of caravans. Each string of stern knocks was followed by a “No, I’m sorry, good luck.” Dawn was approaching as we banged on the final caravan door. We had knocked on each and every one. Each and every one of them had not heard or seen a thing.

 My mother and I had no words as we faced the trek home.

 I scraped my mind for something to say, but every thought was darker than the last. I couldn’t offer comfort when my suspicions were so high; I presumed our thoughts were alike. 

I didn’t face my mother until we entered our caravan, “Get some rest, Mom. I can report her missing. Just sleep, the boys will be fine, and I’m sure Rosella just found a really great hiding spot.” I forced a slight smile, hoping it would keep her from sensing the doubt I held in my own suggestion. 

“You think anyone is gonna care? Those girls from town are one thing; nobody gives a shit about our kids.” She shot back, words as sharp as her glare. The thought had already crossed my mind. Travelers - “Gypsies,” as everyone tends to call us, typically aren’t well received. Especially by local law enforcement. Always the criminals, never the victims. 

She slumped onto the couch without another word.

The adrenaline from uncovering Rosella's disappearance had long worn off; it was now nearly six in the morning. I sighed, turning to leave, when I heard a knock at our door. Opening the door, I stepped outside to find myself faced by our next-door neighbor. There was a smear of dismay on her face; those brown eyes were doing their best not to meet mine.

At her side, I noticed a single, small pink shoe. 

Noting my face turn, she confessed, “Good Morning, Mica. After you and Nan stopped by this morning, I decided to go for a walk to see if I saw anything. I wished I came with better news, but…” she trailed off. “I found this near the tree line, sticking out of a bush. And… and I saw someone. I think it was a man, far back into the brush. I couldn’t see his face.”

“Okay, so, you’re saying you found my missing six-year-old sister's shoe, in the woods, near a mysterious stranger. Right?” she nodded. “And you didn’t go after him? Are you insane; You do know about all of the dead girls in this town, right?”

“I’m sorry, I know it wasn’t right. I should have done something, at least gotten a good look at him, I just… I couldn’t bear to get any closer to him. I’m sorry, Mica. I hope she comes home soon, God bless.” Her words came out faint, solemn.

She lowered the shoe and walked away without dismissal.

My stomach boiled with anger, even as I recalled my actions from earlier that night. When I very well could have found her myself. When I ran home like a child when I heard her scream. When I saw that figure… I couldn’t keep lying to myself.

Hypocrite. That didn’t stop me from feeling angry.

She had only confirmed my suspicions. I had no doubts that some worm had taken my sister, perhaps the same worm stalking the rest of this village. I had to focus; my sister was missing, and I had a culprit.

I breathed in deeply, attempting to soothe that fire in my stomach. I needed to get to the ranch house; the family doesn’t especially favor us, but they tolerate our community. They would let me use their phone, especially given the situation.

I walked to the house, batting away each raging thought that passed. I was grateful someone came to the door when I finally arrived; it was the eldest daughter. She was happy to let me use the phone; the younger daughter shot me a look full of contempt.

“911, what is your emergency,” asked a bored operator.

“Hi, um yeah, my sister is missing - last night she slept with my mom and I couldn't find her, she wasn't there or, or anywhere. My neighbor found her shoe, only one shoe, and we both saw this stranger in the woods by our camp. She’s only six, that guy took her, and you need to find him. With everything going on, I’m really worried; she couldn’t have wandered off unaided.”

“Wait, you said camp? Where are you located?”

“Elwood, we live on Elwood’s ranch,” I responded, figuring she knew the family. There weren’t many.

“I didn’t know the Elwoods had a daughter so young,” she was sharp, like she already knew they didn’t. “What’s her name?” 

“Her name is Rosella. We aren’t part of the family, but we do live on the property. I feel like that’s not really relevant, why aren’t you asking about that freaky guy? Shouldn’t you be on your way here, what with the four missing children?”

“Look, you’re part of that gypsy… clan or whatever you call it. Aren’t you? I really can’t believe you get away with living there; your crew constantly lets your kids run rampant. You expect me to think that girl is actually missing? I’m honestly amazed you noticed after only one night! Listen, we have a real case going on here; I’m not wasting our time on your loose kids.” She hung up.

The words hung heavy in the air, I went still. 

I didn’t expect special treatment; I knew better. There would be no stories in the newspaper, no faces on milk cartons, no missing person posters.

She gave us nothing.

My heart was heavy as I nodded goodbye to the family. Outrage rattled through my body on the walk home, from my head to my toes. The fury grew with each thought: We aren’t deemed worthy of help, my sister is gone, and someone believed they could get away with taking her. That monster thought he could get away with anything.

I continued my walk along the line of trees, the branches hanging around me dotted with yellow, red, and orange. Providing a sliver of peace as my world crumbled.

Then, I heard a small voice.

“Mica, I can see you! Come here!” Rosella’s voice floated to me, laced with a desperation that shattered my heart.

My eyes stung, “Rosella, I hear you! I’m coming, okay? Don’t move, please.” I tried to sound calm, though my heart hammered. She was okay. She was okay, and I was going to save her now. Whatever happened, I found her. Mom would be so relieved.

Rosella was okay.

I stepped under the watercolored branches and into the woods, my shoes met by crunching autumn leaves.  The air was crisp in my lungs; the forest was beautiful, and the fragrant breeze invited me in, but something made me apprehensive. 

I marveled at the vibrant colors around me as I walked, soothed by the trickling of the creek, but the further I delved, the bigger the apprehension grew. The earthly smells around me transitioned from inviting to menacing. The scent in my nose became that of rotting. 

Then I saw him, that towering stranger. He virtually manifested in front of me. Or, had he been there, watching? He stood unbelievably tall, and deep gouges seeped into his face where his cheeks should be. His sunken eyes radiated a subtle light. That face looked quite similar to the sketch in the paper. 

“Mica!” Rosella called again; she sounded so close. But, the man appeared alone.

My voice quivered as I remained motionless, “Who are you, and what are you doing out here?” No response, only those eyes. “Where are you keeping her?” Silence. That dead-eyed stare dug into my soul. 

As quick as he materialized, he was gone. He vanished, along with the cries from my sister. Any lingering doubts that she had been taken vanished along with them.

I had just been face-to-face with the offender, and I did nothing. My hatred grew; hatred for myself and for this ogre that took my sister. The anger trumped my fear; they couldn’t have gone far. He was just there; I could get Rosella and run as soon as I caught up.

I continued my journey into the decaying forest; with each step, my breathing became increasingly shallow. I shouldn’t be scared; I don’t deserve to be scared; Rosella had to spend the night with that swine. But soon, everything looked the same. Crimson leaves and oak branches in every direction. The tree branches inched closer, closer, closer; everything around me shrunk as the canopy crept in. 

I noticed the smell then. Not the smell of wet, decaying leaves; it was a new scent. A scent I had never experienced before, something even more troubling than the rotting smell from earlier. I couldn’t help but hunch over and retch straight into the amber leaves below.

I only saw the blood once I finished relieving myself. The blood was dark and muddy, seeping into the leaves and dirt. My breathing became rapid, and sharp. But it wasn’t fresh. God, why was that a consolation? But wild animals live out here; it must be from an animal. I just heard Rosella; it was fine.

The blood-caked forest floor became my guide; it was at least some way to track my path. Minutes, or maybe hours, passed as I followed my blood trail. Every groaning branch, chattering squirrel, or whistling breeze yielded a flinch. I could feel my safety draining away with each hesitant step. Further down, I could see something crumpled and dirty in the middle of the track. My heart stumbled, and I broke into a run; I still couldn’t tell what it was as I moved toward the miniature mound. I crouched to pick it up, dirt and debris heaping off the cloth. It was a shirt. A small, sticky shirt. Unsure where the source of the texture came from, I glanced at my fingers. 

They were red. I dropped the shirt and avoided covering my face with my hands, allowing a sob instead. What was Rosella wearing last night? That couldn’t fit her, could it? I couldn’t bear to think what lay at the end of this trail, but I had to keep going. That shirt couldn’t fit Rosella; it was much too small. Whoever it did belong to, I could only pray for.

A few more minutes after my discovery, I found myself at the mouth of a cave. The blood trailing into the entrance wasn’t exactly welcoming, but I could imagine Rosella finding solace in a niche like this. Something told me she was close. 

I crossed the threshold into the cave, sending the chilly, damp air into my lungs. I squinted; I couldn’t see very far. My view melted into the black abyss. I could only hear the pattering of water drip, drip, dripping onto the hard cavern floor. I did catch more splotches of blood on the stone ahead of me. I ventured toward it, one foot in from of the other, again and again. My heartbeat drummed against my ears.

Again and again. And then, I heard a brittle clatter at the same frequency as my steps. The darkness muddled my vision, but I could make out the bones as I glanced down. 

Bones. There were bones littering the floor of the cave. I still couldn’t see the end of the cave; the clattering only seemed to increase as I continued. My hands shook. I didn’t bring a flashlight or… anything. I couldn’t see, and I had no way to defend myself. I wondered what exactly I had wandered into.

My foot thudded against something; not a rock, not more remains, but something soft. My heart skipped a beat as I bent down, patting my hands around until I stumbled upon something wet. I bent down for a closer look.

A young face stared back at me, but her eyes held no life. I noticed the lifeless stare before the lack of a body. I gasped and fell on my backside. The blond hair told me she wasn’t Rosella, but it did nothing to ease my terror. 

“Rosella?” I whimpered. If she was here, we needed to go now.

“Keep walking, Mica. Please help me, I’m hurt. That man hurt me!” a faint voice begged.

Tears began streaming down my face; she was so close. The voice undoubtedly belonged to Rosella, she knew my name. The weight of everything had finally begun lifting off my shoulders when I felt it. 

I felt the cold watch of those glowing eyes.

I stood, slowly, my eyes wholly fixed on its gaze as it loomed. I couldn’t look away. I almost didn’t notice the small, limp body in front of it.

Her shoe was missing.

Collapsing, I couldn’t stop staring at the aberration towering over me. Terror surpassed my entire being. It only kept staring, and I had plenty of time to mull over the details of those glowing orbs. Beneath the glow, its eyes were milky and glazed, not unlike the eyes in the young girl's head. I wanted more than anything to look away. I realized how it could be mistaken for a man. It no longer matched the sketch of the police suspect, but its head was eerily similar to a human's. Save for those glowing eyes, the bloody, serrated teeth lining its gums. The sinister smile it gave me wasn’t human, either.

It kept me in this state for a long while. Though, it didn’t take me long to realize Rosella was dead. Her mangled body showed no signs of life; she had perished long before anyone realized she was gone - and I would soon join her. I instead had time to take in the creature's pale, sheer skin, like a curtain wrapped around organs and bone. Its limbs were bent in all the wrong directions, sinewy and slender, somehow suspending the grotesque body above the earth. Lethal claws protruded from each stem, complete with a coat of crimson.

The stench of the thing became unbearable.

Even if I could move, I don’t know if I could bring myself to. This thing led me here. It took Rosella, had its way, and used her to get me here. It took those girls, too. I remained trapped in those dull eyes as it took another slow step in my direction before charging fully. I watched as those gruesome teeth aimed at my neck, and everything flickered off. I saw only blackness.

But I could hear it all.

I could hear as my legs and arms cracked; and then as the snap of my neck echoed through the cave. I could hear the claws ripping into my flesh and felt my skin shred into ribbons. With each impact, I thought of Rosella. Of my mother. I should have told her I loved her. 

I prayed that she didn’t come looking. That she attributed our disappearances to the human monster we all suspected. I should have fought back if only to spare her the same fate.

Though, I was a coward until the end.