A Story by Abigail T

a young woman loses her father in a hit-and-run. but a mysterious woman might have a way to change that...


I cried at my father’s funeral.  Silent tears streamed down my face, leaving black mascara trails in their wake.  Many of his work friends I wasn’t well acquainted with merely pat my back lightly and murmured their sympathies.  I didn’t move, though.  Not even when all that remained were my stone-faced mother and the men putting my father in the ground. 


“Emily,” my mother called from her ten-foot distance, “It’s time to leave.” I felt her walk away. I heard the squishing sound her rain boots made in the muddy earth, and sensed her intimidating presence retreat.  I remained staring intently into the hole the remains of my father resided. 


“I’m sorry for your loss,” a feminine voice offered tenderly from behind me.  I was so startled by the unfamiliar voice that I turned around to see who else had stayed.  Immediately I realized I didn’t know her. She was older than I was, maybe in her mid-twenties, and was beautiful.  Her stick-straight blonde hair seemed unaffected by the rain, and her porcelain, almost doll-like face wore no make-up.  She smiled as she glided towards me, as if the sticky mud didn’t dare try to take her in.

“He was your father, yes?” she asked as though she already knew the answer. I nodded.  She took my hand gently, and I surprised myself by letting her.  Her presence was soothing, comforting, warm. 

“You were there when it happened, weren’t you?” the woman turned to look at me, her blue eyes shining.

I stood shocked, my mouth agape. “How did you know that?”

“When the car hit him,” she continued as if I hadn’t said anything, “You saw it happen.”

“Listen, I don’t know who you are, but my mother"”

“Emily,” she cooed, squeezing my hand tightly, “I can make it all better.”

Something in my mind started to glaze over.  I was trying to find ways to get away from this unearthly and frightening woman, to go back to my mother and drive home.  No matter how hard I tried to tell my body to let go, I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t access the part of my brain that provided movement.  All I could manage was to look at her with pleading eyes, since even my mouth wouldn’t open.

“What if you could save him?” The woman squeezed my hand harder, smiling wickedly.

Then I was falling. My body collapsed to the wet ground, and my vision clouded over into darkness.  I tried to scream, to call for help, but I had no control over my body.

“Open your eyes,” a soft, melodic voice whispered to me.  I did as I was commanded, and I realized that I was no longer in the cemetery.  I stood in a crosswalk a few steps behind my father. This was it. This was when he died.  My heart stopped.  My father was dead. I saw it happen. And I was about to see it again if I didn’t do anything.

“Dad, wait!”

© 2011 Abigail T

Author's Note

Abigail T
I wrote this for a contest. It had to be 500 words or less, and needed to include time travel in some way. Just some background. (:

My Review

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A very good story Abigail. This reminded me somewhat of "an Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge." It was very well written with a good plot and a good ending.


Posted 9 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Wow, so much conveyed in such a short 500 words.. Really like this.. the imagery, along with the emotional strain, helped pull the reader right into the story from the opening line.. Nice job conveying the melancholy mood.

Posted 9 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Wow, this is good! I liked the suspense you build up even though it was so short. Nicely done!

Posted 9 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This was awesome, honestly really well written. Somethings i read i dont want to finish, or speed through because its not totally interesting, this reeled me in and kept me wanting to read.

Posted 9 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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4 Reviews
Added on June 3, 2011
Last Updated on June 16, 2011
Tags: death, car accident, time travel, short story, female protagonist, sorrow, grief


Abigail T
Abigail T

Amherst, MA

My name is Abigail, and I'm a recent college graduate now in the world to write fiction for young adults. I'm using this site to archive my work. more..

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