Jane Doe

Story of a young girl whose body is found by a fisherman and his son. Suicide or something more sinister?

They found my body in the early spring of 1966. The fisherman and his son came to test the waters under Orton Bridge when they discovered me, half-submerged in those frigid waters.

At first, I was unaware of where I was; what I was. I had a sense of being cold, oh so cold. As I watched the young boy's deep blue eyes grow round and wide, a chilling numbness washed over me. He kept staring and staring, then opened his mouth and screamed. Thankfully, I couldn't hear his cries but I gazed on as the chaos ensued. The fisherman slapped a rough, calloused hand over his son's eyes and half-dragged him to a dented, green pick-up parked along a nearby country lane.

Hovering closer to the jagged rock my head, neck and shoulders rested on, I noticed the scratches and scrapes along my puckered, blue-tinged skin. Twigs and leaves had embedded themselves into my long, tangled, wet-brown hair.

Were they coming back to help me? I couldn't stand. I couldn't open my eyes. Moving closer, I became aware that I wasn't breathing. Was my green and white striped sweater clinging to my torso too tight? Was that why I had stopped breathing? Confusion invaded my very core. What had happened? How had I gotten into the water?

Moving in more, I reached out to touch my shoulder. How was I able to do that? See myself? Know I wasn't breathing? Touch and feel my own clammy, thin frame?

Realization began to sink in. Was I? I couldn't be. No. No. No. NO! A terrified scream ripped from my parched throat. I felt something give way inside my head; a pop of understanding, an inkling of remembrance perhaps.

A glimmer of joy welled when I heard the chirp of bluebirds overhead, listened to the slight breeze filter through the treetops and the lapping of the river against ...

Oh, God, it was true! I was dead. I had been dead for a couple of months. The spring thaw had allowed the river currents to wash me ashore.

Veiled acceptance began to transform as the entire community trickled in one by one. The fisherman, police, paramedics, news reporters, cameramen and plain 'ol gossip-seekers tromped through wildflowers and weeds to gawk and speculate.

Several men and a few women clucked and shook their heads.

"Suicide?"

"Probably."

"Bet she jumped from the bridge."

Not true! I wanted to cry and shriek. I wanted them to knock on doors, check cars and venture into other towns to find my killer. My words would fall on deaf ears whether I spoke or not.

Maybe, just maybe, the necklace with the round, silver pendant and teal-colored stone clutched in my lifeless hand would provide a clue. Perhaps the man's name engraved on its backing would speak volumes.

Author's Note

Please give an overall review on this mysterious short story. Thank you!

Reviews

[Laura Coleman-Heyne]

Hi Melissa, I loved this opening! The first line is a definite attention getter. I agree with the other review that it needs to go further. Why mention it's 1966 in the first sentence if it isn't brought up again? That's a meaty year full impactful events and colorful people. Bring it in and use it. I don't necessarily need all the answers to a murder mystery, but I feel like I'm just starting to ask the questions! I want to get to know this dead girl. Good stuff! Thanks for sharing it.

[MelissaAndres]

Hi, Laura! Thank you so much for your review! I really appreciate it! I had written this with the thought of turning it into a novel or at least something longer but someone told me they didn't like the "voice" of the dead girl and it ended up on the shelf and I never pursued it further. Now you have my wheels turning and I am wondering if I should continue. :)

[Laura Coleman-Heyne]

I think you should dust it off and see what inspiration comes! I wish you the best with it. Can't wait to read more of your work.

[MelissaAndres]

Thank you so much, Laura. I am glad you think this worthy of being continued. :)

[Samuel Dickens]

I think you've got something here that could, and probably should, be continued. The stark and shocking scene really grabs a reader's attention, and they'll surely want to know more. I gotta say, though, that the perspective is odd. It seems you have a dead body with a live spirit still inside of it, observing the world around. Who knows if this could be, but what we're accustomed to is remote viewing by the spirit. She sits in a tree, looking on, or stands nearby--that sort of thing.

[MelissaAndres]

Maybe there is a reason the dead girl is viewing herself in this manner. It may be something I need to explore. Do you truly think I should? Is it good enough to continue? Once my craft fairs are over this month I plan to do a lot more reviewing and writing as well. You're making me THINK, Sam! Haha! :)