ONE

Martha had been waiting for Madelyn to arrive for an hour now. She’d been very clear of the fact that she should come home before dark. Maybe she had been a bit too trusting. This was a quiet town and their house was located at an even quieter place but didn’t danger lurk everywhere these days? Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed Madelyn to stray so far away from the house. She had been so lucky to be able to buy the house near the mountains from her dad’s inheritance. The quiet place was ideal for getting a lot of writing done. Her work as a horror author hadn’t gone unnoticed by Hollywood and she was even working on some deals getting her novels adapted to the big screen. It was a dream come true. Finally, after the death of her husband, Madelyn’s father, things were starting to look up. Those thoughts suddenly gave her an unpleasant gut feeling. Where things going to well for too long? Had something happened to Madelyn?

She left the porch of her home, walking towards the big mountain that dwarfed it. She loved watching the sun go down behind it usually. Now it felt like just a harbinger of bad news. She started to yell. “Madelyn! Madelyn! Madelyn! Where are you?”

In the distance she saw a diminutive figure come running towards her. The blonde curls, the white summer dress she recognized immediately. It was Madelyn.

“Mom, I’m here!” Madelyn shouted. She sounded excited but not in distress.

Martha ran towards her daughter. When she reached her, she picked up the seven year old girl and hugged her so tightly Madelyn squeaked.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Careful, mom!”

Madelyn put her daughter down again. Worry was replaced by anger. “I told you to be home before sundown! Where were you?”

“I met a new friend. She’s great,” Madelyn said, smiling a huge smile.

There weren’t many children in this town and Madelyn had a hard time making friends. Her big city upbringing sometimes clashed with those of the rural kids. Hearing she’d made a friend sounded great. Martha wondered though who the friend was. There weren’t really any kids in the close neighborhood of the house. Not in walking distance.

“A friend? Tell me more?”

“She’s really nice. About my age with dark hair. She allowed me to play with her dolls and we played tag in the woods,” Madelyn told her.

“What’s her name? Were her parents there?”

“She didn’t tell me her name. And no, her parents weren’t there.”

“Where does she live?”

Madelyn shrugged. “In the mountains I guess. She asked me to come over and come and play more often.”

That sounded a bit strange. A little girl living in the mountains without her parents near? Martha’s house was the only one so near the mountains. Was Madelyn making stuff up? Her imagination was even bigger than her own and she’d probably be a great writer herself in the future. She figured it wouldn’t be very strange that a lonely, imaginative girl like Madelyn could think up an imaginary friend.

“I’d like to meet her sometime,” Martha said. “But we should have dinner first.”

“Hey, look! A car! Are you expecting someone, mommy?” Madelyn said, pointing behind her mother.

Martha turned around and saw a pickup truck in the distance. She recognized it. It belonged to the local mechanic, Dean Travers. Why was he coming over?

The truck stopped when it had reached Martha and Madelyn. The doors opened and Dean, wearing a flannel shirt and ballcap got out of the car. From the passenger side stepped a young man, somewhere in his late teens. His hair was longish, his jeans faded. He wore a Misfits t-shirt and battered army jacket a few sizes too big. A backpack was slung over his shoulder. Who was this strange visitor and what would he bring on this already strange day?