The pale mist coates the windows and trees
It seems to be dancing
A noise cries out in the distance
A chill runs up my spine
The snow covers my costume
And hers, and his, and theirs
A short girl drifts past me
Drifts?
I turn quickly
She’s gone
No wait
There she is
A scream is etched on her face.
Her hair matted down the sides of her face
She is nearly translucent
“Look” I say
“I don’t see anything”
I leave the group
I slowly make my way toward her
She walks through the crowd
Gasps ring out as she passes through people
“Did it just get colder”
“I suddenly got a headache”
She walks into the mist close to the old oak
I follow
I turn
I hold in a scream
