Emma Smith's Jacket

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a "horror" story based on one I've heard a while ago. It's not that scary, but I got bored.

Submitted: November 18, 2007

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Submitted: November 18, 2007

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It was a dark and stormy evening. Around 7:30 PM. Trevor Meynard and his wife, Laura, were driving home in their old Dodge pickup truck from an evening party they had been invited to.

It was quiet. The only sound was the rain pattering heavily on the car windows, and the annoying squeal of the windshield wipers, moving back and forth.

After about ten minutes, Laura saw something on the side of the road. She told Trevor to stop.

"What's that?" she asked.

Trevor slowed down. It turned out to be a little girl, about ten years old, standing in the rain, drenched, and looking cold.

"Stop, Trevor! Look! There's a little girl at the side of the road!"

"Bah... she can take care of herself."

But Laura persisted. "Look at her! Let her in the car. Let's just take her home, okay?"

Trevor finally gave in. "Awright. But just home. Got that?"

They stopped. Laura rolled down her window, and smiled at the small girl. "Hi! I'm Laura, and this is my husband, Trevor. We just saw you in the road, and wondered if you needed a ride?"

The girl said nothing.

"Come on in!" Laura said cheerily, opening the back door from the outside.

The girl just nodded, and stepped into the truck robotically.

"She's cold!" Laura said. "Trevor, give her your coat!"

Not wanting any trouble later on, Trevor instantly removed his coat, and tossed it at the girl. She caught it, and wrapped it around herself.

"Now," Laura said. "Where do you live? We'll take you home!"

The girl said nothing, but pointed straight ahead. Trevor drove off.

After about ten minutes, Trevor spotted a ragged, old, wooden house, surrounded weeds. Trevor and Laura got down, and walked up to the door. They knocked.

The door opened. A modest looking man and his young wife had appeared at the door.

"Hello!" said Laura cheerfully. "I'm Laura Meynard, and this is my husband, Trevor."

The families shook hands.

"We're the Smiths." the young couple said. "Can we help you?"

"Well, yes!" Laura said. "We saw a young girl standing in the street, out in this horrific weather, and we took her home. This is where she pointed us too. We think she's your daughter. Have you been looking for her?"

The small family stared at the Meynards. "Our daughter?"

Trevor nodded.

"Our daughter... Our daughter's been dead for seven years!"

Laura gasped.

"She's buried in the cemetary down the street, sir!" the young woman said to Trevor.

Trevor and Laura dashed back to the truck, only to find that the young girl they had picked up on the road was not there... and neither was Trevor's warm jacket.

They got in the car, and rushed down to the cemetary. They went through the few old gravestones, and quickly found the name "Smith".

"Emma Smith..." Trevor said quietly.

But suddenly, Laura gasped. Trevor turned.

Laura was pointing straight at the warm jacket that Trevor had handed to the girl.


© Copyright 2017 Sebastian Wyngaarden. All rights reserved.