Your True Tales
November 2008 - Page 15
Lady in the Creek
by Jenny C.
Back when I was just 9 years old, my father and I used to spend our time after dinner at the porch. Our house is situated in a secluded village, where big trees thrive and not so many houses are built. So there are lot intervals in between houses. And we don't have many neighbors on the same block. The front of our house is not far from a deep creek, perhaps situated three blocks away. It is spooky back there in our home town, and that creek I know has its own dark secrets.
Going back, on that evening with my father, while he was busy smoking, I went down near the creek. When I took a look at the creek, I saw a white, gloomy figure of a woman, floating. I know she's floating because there are high bushes about three feet tall near the creek, and the end of her dress was just above that. She had long, dark, ebony hair, that was wavy, and from afar I could see that it was soaked and dripping.
When I see something that I doubt is normal, I stare at the object, trying hard not to blink for few seconds, just to gather my thoughts about the thing I am seeing. The next thing I know, after a few a seconds of staring at her, she disappeared. I ran back to my father and told him immediately about what I saw. I even made him stare at the same spot where I had seen the figure, but he saw nothing at all. He even felt irritated at me telling him things like that, so he just scolded me and ordered me to go back into the house.
Years passed, and one Friday afternoon -- it was Good Friday then -- I rode my bike down to our village and went to the other end of the creek. This part of the village has no houses built in it yet; it's just a whole lot of space in there and tall grasses about five feet tall. But I could still view the almost end of the creek. It was such a nice view to amuse myself with, until I saw the lady again, now in a much clearer sight of her: still the same, dripping wet hair, soaked white dress, white pale skin. And until then I wasn't able to see her face. The afternoon sun made it more visible to me that she is indeed a ghost, and her figure is quite translucent.
Does the creek have anything to do with her death? Why is she restless, and what does she want me to do? Today I am 22 years old, and I haven't tried to visit that same place for fear of seeing her again.
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