Photos Taken

It’s late at night, she just needs to go for a walk. Living in Vermont means you could act crazy and everyone would just accept it. She’s walking along the dirt road, cool to her bare feet. Shoes ruin the experience. As she approaches the rusted open gate, she takes her flashlight out from under her arm and grips it tight. Wandering the woods alone, in the middle of the night, with nothing but a flashlight and her phone isn’t the best idea, but it’s fine. She’s done it all before. Plus, the hike itself isn’t long. Passing by the stone wall ruins, she shines her light over the wall. Maybe a snake or something will be out. It’s not a snake, but she sees something. Like part of an old fence. It's shiny in some parts, black in others. She walks to it, careful of not losing sight of it. Stepping over logs and small rocks, she reaches the object. Picking it up, she notices it’s a camera. Small, probably not worth coming back for, since whoever dropped it must’ve noticed. She takes it and begins her walk home, curious too much to keep walking. 

By morning she’s taking the camera to a red room. The camera has film ready to use, but most looks used. Must be a newly lost item. The film gets taken to the back to be developed. 

After a while, the film is returned in a neat box tied with a red bow. She rushes home. It’s only about a twenty minute drive. Right as she gets home, she undoes the ribbon and takes the photos out. Careful to not look, she takes the lid off the box. The first few photos are blurry beyond recognition. They’re just streaks of black and white. Those go in the trash. As she keeps looking, she notices something strange. The next photo is of someone shining a light in the distance. Next is the light and figure closer. The photos seem to be out of order, since the next is of some house. She takes a closer look. It’s her house? Forgetting that one, she picks up the next photo. It’s her walking on the path before she saw the camera. Her face is clearly visible, but something isn’t right. Her eyes seem darker. Her body looks worn. Maybe she was just tired. 

The next photo is of some guy in the same place, same kind of photo. Maybe she found a makeshift trail camera. The next photo in the box is that same guy tied in a chair. She drops the box and the photos. All spread out, the pictures lay the scene. The man was walking on the trail when he spotted the camera. He walked over to it and picked it up. He walked with the camera. But something was wrong. He couldn’t have taken that photo himself. It was too far from his face. The look on his face wasn’t right either. Maybe someone else was with him? 

Finally, there's a photo of him. Sleeping. The corner of the photo had some long, twisted hands reaching into frame. She pulled out her phone and took a photo of the man's face. Her stomach dropped. He had been missing for years. But the camera was in perfect condition. She picked up the box. Two photos were stuck in there. There was one of her sleeping. And one of them labeled 13:00. She looked at her watch. It was 12:58. Just then, the windows in her house all smashed. Doors went flying open. Everything on shelves and counters went flying. 

The kindergarten had needed to find another new teacher. They kept leaving. They went walking on an old logging trail, looking at the old rock ruins. One kid found a camera and showed it to the teacher. The next week, they went on a field trip to get the photos developed. The first few were blurry. The next few were someone walking with a flashlight. The kids wanted to skip the boring photos and look at the bottom. As the teacher flipped through, her face paled. The next photo was of the missing teacher. Gouged beyond recognition. The only way to tell who it was were the letters spelling out her name across her chest.