Your True
Tales
January 2003 –
Page 14
The
Little Girl in Plaid
by Nerida C.
It was late one evening in the fall of 1979. My two boys, aged 13 and 9, were hanging out with their friends in our living room, chatting and joking around when they decided to go to one of the other boy's home on the same block. They hadn't been gone for more than 20 minutes when I heard the front door suddenly fly open, followed by giggling and laughter. Whoever they were remained in the small vestibule between the two doors and were playing rough and sounded like they were pushing each other against the wall. I had been sitting on the sofa watching TV and I instantly perked my ears just in case my supervision should be required. I was assuming the children had returned and would soon be coming into the living room, so I waited for them to bursting through the door any second. I was surprised to see the second door open halfway and a wave of long blonde hair come flying through, followed by someone's arm in a red plaid sleeve. The giggling continued for a few seconds, then suddenly stopped, and I heard the front door close. I jumped out of my seat, which was just a few steps away, and raced for the door. Whoever it was couldn't have gotten far because I was on the front step almost immediately after the noise stopped.
It was around 10:30 p.m. and all was silent. The street was deserted. I couldn't imagine where those children could have disappeared to so quickly. I was perplexed, but the real shocker came later when the children returned about one hour later. I asked them if they had been to the house earlier, and they said "no," they had been at Anthony's house the entire time. Wanting to pursue the matter further, I asked Karen if any of her friends had long blonde hair. She answered "yes," then went on to describe her two friends, the twins, who wore red plaid jackets. I listened intently as Karen told me the story of one of the twins coming to play with her one day and getting struck by a vehicle as she crossed the street. The little girl died on the spot. What was so amazing about this tale is that the little girl was wearing a red plaid jacket that fateful day.
I have never forgotten that night, nor will I ever forget the dead little girl in the red plaid jacket who was playing in my home late one night. I would love to know who she was playing with.
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