A gust of wind brushed against Meredith's bare legs and she cursed under her breath, hugging her boyfriend's leather jacket tighter to her chest. It wasn't her smartest decision, walking home in the middle of the night with nothing on but a black lacy bralette, high-waisted denim shorts, and a leather jacket that did little to actually protect her from the cold. Not to mention the fact that she was walking along a backroad and to her right was nothing but a field of grass. Alone.
If she remembered correctly, this was the field her father would be building new apartment complexes on. She didn't particularly care about the field itself, but more apartment buildings-especially on this side of town-would just look trashy. It would, however, make her feel safer than walking next to three acres of darkness. Again, not her brightest idea. But she had to get away from Sookram's party. Ryan Sookram threw the wildest parties and more often than not, Meredith would be there.
And tonight she was there. For about an hour, having a blast with her friends (not really friends, just drinking buddies). Then her boyfriend, Scott Sanders, started drinking and she knew she had to go. Scott was a violent drunk and it was hard enough to convince her parents that the marks on her neck were hickeys, not bruises in the shape of his fingertips. So she had taken his jacket and walked out. Driving would've more comfortable, but she had had a few drinks. And besides, Scott's car was terrible and sometimes took five minutes just to start.
So there she was, walking down...Bracken Road. Maybe. She wasn't sure. It was a backroad she had taken before, but had never been sober enough to know what it was. Not that it mattered. She didn't care what road she took, she just wanted to be home.
A black sedan raced past her on the road suddenly, sending her hair and another gust of freezing wind into her face. She spluttered and stopped walking, pushing her hair back roughly. Meredith glanced around and realized she didn't know where she was. Did I miss the turn? She exhaled in annoyance and crossed her arms. Think Meredith, think. If she had missed the turn, she would've seen Rudy's barbeque by now. She closed her eyes, briefly thanking whoever cared enough to listen before continuing on her way.
The gravel crunched under her heels and she stopped again, realizing it would probably be easier to cross the street now when there weren't any cars coming. Just as she thought that, another car zoomed past her and startled her so much she jumped, and on her landing, stumbled forward. Her knees hit the ground first, the tiny rocks pinching into her skin. Her hands were next as she lost the little balance she had and toppled forward. The cold air nipped at the now irritated skin on her hands and knees and she bit her lip. Cold air always made the smallest cuts and scrapes sting ten times more.
Meredith lifted herself up slowly, scowling as she brushed the gravel off her skin. She was starting to regret not taking Scott's car. She wasn't even that tipsy, she totally could've handled it. Another gust of wind blew by. This time, however, the cold air was accompanied by a rancid smell that made Meredith wrinkle her nose in disgust. It was worse than the smell of puke after a couple of drinks and unfortunately, Meredith recognized it. It was the smell of rotting flesh.
Most people wouldn't be able to recognize that smell and Meredith wasn't exactly proud that she could. She only could because her mother was a coroner and Meredith had begged her to bring her along one day as a child. That day just happened to be the day they brought in a month-old dead body that smelled exactly like what she could smell now. Her mind waged an internal battle on itself for a moment before her curiosity overrode her common sense. She knew she would regret this, but decided to find out what it was anyway.
She couldn't tell where the smell was coming from, so she just turned and stepped into the grass. The grass grazed her skin as she walked, coming up to just above her knees. It felt like sandpaper was being rubbed against her legs, and the cold didn't help any. As she continued, the smell grew stronger and breathing it in with the cold air was beginning to burn the inside of her nostrils.
Meredith was about ten yards in when suddenly the earth dipped into a shallow ditch and she stumbled forward. She landed on her hands and knees again, but this time right in front of a...oh god. I knew I would regret this. Her eyes began to tear up and she wasn't sure if it was because of the now overwhelming smell or the fact that she was stupid enough to let herself stumble upon a body.
She scrambled back, falling on her butt and barely holding in a scream. She had only ever seen a dead body once and had vowed never again to see another. And yet, here she was.
It was horrifying but Meredith couldn't look away. She held her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with unshed tears. It was a body of a young girl, a girl no older than herself. Her blonde hair was streaked with dirt and blood. The blood from her slit throat. It was dry and caked along the edge of the wound that stretched from ear to ear like a gruesome smile with bloody teeth. Her skin was a ghastly color: a gray that hollowed out her cheeks and eye sockets. Her mouth was partially open with blood trailing from the corner and Meredith was stupidly surprised to see how dull and lifeless her brown eyes were.
She was wearing a thin pink tank top and penguin-covered pajama shorts. For a second Meredith couldn't help but think of how cold this girl must be before she realized she couldn't be cold, she was dead. A weird sort of grief coiled at the pit of her stomach and her chest felt tight. This girl had barely lived her life and now she was dead in a ditch.
Meredith wasn't sure if it was because of the sudden overwhelming grief she felt or something else entirely, but she felt compelled to touch her, as if to somehow convey her sympathy for a life lost. But that was stupid. This girl was dead and she'd only be conveying it to herself. So she settled on closing the girl's eyes. Maybe then she could find some peace before the police and coroners got ahold of her.
Meredith reached her hand out slowly, watching her fingers tremble. The girl's skin was ice-cold and she almost flinched back but stopped herself. She gently closed the girl's eyelids and rested her hand on the girl's forehead briefly.
Suddenly her vision left her. Meredith gasped in surprise. Had the moon just been covered by clouds? But no, there was something. She could see...a house. A living room to be more precise. But it wasn't her living room. It was completely unfamiliar with two large, brown leather couches occupying the center of the room and a coffee table just in front of them. Where was she?
The front door just beyond the living room opened and a boy walked in. Meredith didn't recognize him, but felt her lips stretch into a smile and her feet walk her toward him. Why couldn't she control her own movements? She tried to stop, to move her fingers, to do anything, but the body she was currently occupying wouldn't listen to her commands. It kept moving forward until it stood in front of the boy.
The body Meredith was in-since it clearly wasn't hers-looked up at this boy who had black hair that curled all the way to his shoulders, and dark eyes that to Meredith, looked kind of menacing. She got this sudden feeling that she couldn't trust this guy but the body didn't seem to feel that because it didn't move, instead speaking to the boy.
"What took you so long?" Meredith's mouth moved, but it wasn't her voice. It wasn't even what Meredith wanted to say. "I'm starving."
"You're just impatient, Sylvie." The boy responded, and it sounded like music to her ears even though Meredith still felt uneasy about this guy.
"Well?" The body put its hands on its hips. "Where's the food?"
The boy nodded toward the door. "It's in the car, I need you to help me get it."
"In this weather? Come on, Danny." The body gestured to itself. "Look at what I'm wearing."
Meredith wanted to. She wanted to see who this person was. But she couldn't do anything. Danny shook his head. "Those penguin shorts will be the death of you."
This time, the body actually looked down this time and Meredith got a glimpse of what this body was wearing and the sight made her blood run cold. She was wearing penguin-covered pajama shorts and a pink tank top. Was this-am I the dead girl?
Meredith felt her eyes roll before she began walking involuntarily toward the door, behind Danny. Outside, it was freezing and immediately Meredith felt her arms wrap them around herself. "Okay, Danny. How much food did you-"
The words were cut off when Danny roughly placed his hand over her mouth and held something cold and sharp to her throat. Meredith struggled against his hold and this time the body actually complied, but she had a feeling it had nothing to do with her. She began yelling into his hand but all that came out was muffled noise. Meredith was suddenly consumed with an overwhelming fear and betrayal. In the midst of it all, she heard two pain-filled thoughts that must've been from this girl. What is he doing to me? Why is he trying to hurt me?
Meredith wanted nothing more than to help this girl but obviously this was a moment in the past. Nothing she did now could stop this. Danny's grip on her tightened and a piercing pain unlike any Meredith had ever felt before seared across her throat. He finally let her go and she dropped to the floor, her hands coming up to her bloody throat as she tried to gasp, scream, cry. But all that came out was blood. And blood. And blood. Why did he do this to me?
Meredith was suddenly jerked back into her own body. She gasped and fell back again, panting and staring in horror at the girl-Sylvie-lying dead in front of her. Did I just see Sylvie die?