R/Nosleep (Get Spooked)

The Woman In White

By: u/Sergeant_Darwin

Warning: homicide, torture.

My earliest memory is of dying.

I was four years old, holding my mother's hand, walking to church alongside her. She was wearing high heels and a blue skirt, patterned with red cherries in pairs. As we walked, I saw a park across the street, complete with swingset and slide, and decided that I wanted to be there, so I wrenched free of my mother's hand and ran out into the street. My mother screamed and lunged for me, but she was too late. I was halfway across the road when a large gray truck sped around the corner.

Don't worry. It missed me.

The truck swerved and slammed on its brakes, skidding to a stop with me on one side and Mom on the other. With this obstacle in her path, I had enough of a head start to continue my sprint towards the park. I was deaf to her screams — now infused with anger, rather than mortal panic — as I sped underneath one of the park's giant elm trees, the coveted swingset drawing nearer with every tiny step. And then, just as suddenly as I had taken off, I collapsed, skidding to an ungraceful halt on the ground, spoiling my Sunday best with grass stains and dirt.

I was being chased.

From below, my friends cheered wildly. I was the undisputed champion of Time-Tag, and had been all summer. But my title was in jeopardy — Zack was gaining fast. He and I were the only two players left, and the timer on my wristwatch said I only had to evade him for 23 more seconds. But why, I asked myself as I skinned my knee against bark, had I climbed this stupid tree?

I had more questions, too, like: Who am I? Where did Mom go? And why am I so much bigger now?

Higher and higher we climbed. Zack could almost reach out and touch me.

Fourteen seconds.

I slid myself along a branch, hoping to reach another one nearby. Instead, my shoe skidded across a patch of smooth wood, and down I went. My stomach seemed to fall at a different speed than the rest of me. I hadn't realized I'd climbed so high.

I hit the ground, not with a thud, but with a revolting crunch. I'd landed on my back, and had felt my ribs all break at once. There was no pain — just a peculiar, powerful tightening in my chest, like I was being squeezed by a giant snake.

I was going to have to go to the hospital, and my parents couldn't afford it. How could I have been so stupid? "Dad's going to kill me," I thought hazily, "assuming I don't die right here and now." I was vaguely aware of the swingset off to the side, wafting in the summer breeze, and of my friends gathering around me in reverence.

As my mind faded back into reality, a high-pitched beeping cut the silence like a scalpel, signaling that I was still the undisputed champion of Time-Tag . . .

I awoke, terribly confused, in the shade of the giant elm. I heard shouts, and sat up to see the driver of the gray truck running over to me, my mother trailing behind barefoot, clutching her high heels. When she reached me, she dropped her shoes and took my face in both her hands.

"Are you alright?" she said, her voice utterly frantic. "What happened to you?"

"Tripped," I said, because it seemed like the thing to say, I suppose. In truth, I had no idea what had happened to me. I couldn't even begin to process it.

She let out her breath in a rush, and clutched my head tightly to her breast. "Don't you ever do that again," she said.

"I won't, Mom," I replied.

It was the first time I died. It would be far from the last.

It's amazing, the things you don't think of, when you're only eight years old.