The "Brights"

By Stephanie Simpson-Woods

Marie gently placed her left foot on the welcome mat, outside her front door. She peered out into the darkness, which now engulfed her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, attempting to free herself from the pair of invisible hands that wrapped themselves around her neck every time she found herself in the dark. As she continued to breathe deeply, the invisible hands loosened their grip just enough for her to get to her car, which was parked about 50 feet from the porch. Climbing in her car, she took another long breath and started the vehicle, quickly flipping on her brights so the large black sheet she found so frightening no longer loomed over her.

Normally, Marie wouldn’t go out at night. When she was a child she would snuggle deep within her Rainbow Bright comforter and stare straight into the My Little Pony night-light her father, or Santa Claus as he was referred to each Christmas until she turned 10, had stuffed into her stocking. But that was typical of any child. As she got older, the My Little Pony night-light disappeared, finding it’s way into one of her mother’s Saturday afternoon yard sales, and Marie no longer cared whether or not the lights were on or off.

It was 3 days after her 18th Birthday when she found her father. Excited that she had just received an acceptance letter from Wake Forest University, Marie ran throughout the house looking for him, but he was no where to be found. She searched each room with the letter in her hand, knowing he was home because his car was in the driveway.

Putting her hands on her hips with the letter still wedged between her fingers, she thought for a moment and decided to try the basement, where her father kept a small collection of vintage wine. When she reached the top of the stairs, she flicked on the light, but nothing happened. Quietly, she paced down the steps until she reached the flashlight, which lay on the cold, concrete floor, and picked it up. Marie scanned the basement with the flashlight until she found her father, a rope wrapped around his neck and his body dangling from a rafter above him. Slowly, under the soft glow of the flashlight’s beam, his corpse swayed back and forth, the rafter creaking with each delicate swing of his limp body.

Since that night, she was no longer able to face the large, black blanket that now surrounded her, aside from the bright lights from her car. Now, she was on her way to the hospital, not only afraid of the purplish-black night sky, but also afraid for her mother’s life. Her mother had had a heart attack.

While she drove through her neighborhood, she noticed an old man, dressed in a blue, terrycloth robe and a pair of suede house shoes pulling a garbage can down his driveway. About 60 feet from his house she saw two little girls sitting on a porch swing in front of their home giggling about something funny one of the girls had said. Deep down, Marie missed the night, the late-night trips to Wendy’s, the 8pm showing of whatever the movie theatre was playing, or the football games she once enjoyed in high school. But no matter how much she missed frolicking around under the moonlit sky, she just couldn’t handle it. As soon as she stepped foot into the darkness, the large invisible hands she felt when she had found her father, started squeezing her neck, causing her to gasp for air.

Pulling out of her neighborhood, Marie hit the highway, speeding toward the hospital. Her chest slowly bobbed up and down as she calmly breathed, trying to mentally and physically ward off her demon. An old Lionel Ritchie tune played on her car stereo, his voice soothing her as the words, “Hello? Is it me you‘re looking for?” rang out within the walls of the car.

“So far, so good”, she whispered, turning the stereo up a notch.

In front of her, she saw the hospital exit sign.

Taking the exit, Marie kept up with her breathing.

Then, the stereo stopped playing. Confused, she pressed a few buttons on the stereo, but it wouldn’t switch back on. Almost instantly she felt the hands, easing their way up her shirt, softly brushing the nape of her neck. Marie took in a huge breath and held it, just long enough for her to realize the car was slowing down and her brights were beginning to fade.

“What the?” She mumbled in between large gulps of air. Pulling over to the side of the road, Marie turned off the car and sat in the driver’s seat looking out into the woods before her. What was left of her brights dimly glowed through-out the trees.

Clasping her eyes shut she imagined herself at the beach, laid out on a damp towel with sand between her toes and the bright rays of the sun glowing down upon her. For a split second she felt warm, cozy and calm. When she opened her eyes, she felt the hands again, pressing firmly against her throat.

“ Stop!” she yelled, then gathered her wits and exited the car. Standing in front of the vehicle’s fading beams, she popped open the hood and looked inside. Not knowing very much about cars, Marie analyzed the engine. Everything appeared to be just fine, until she noticed a strange liquid oozing from the car’s battery.

Slamming down the hood, she wished she had invested in a cell phone, but since she had never made it to Wake Forest, she was forced to wait tables for a living and her budget was tighter than a size six G-string on an over-weight stripper.

Marie searched up and down the road for a passing car, but there was nothing but darkness. Breathing faster and deeper, Marie reached into her car and grabbed her purse, then started to walk toward the road, until she heard something in the woods. It sounded like the crunching of autumn leaves and the sound repeated itself every two seconds as if someone were walking.

“Hello?” Marie called out, thinking back to the song she had just heard in the car. “Is anyone out there? I could use some help.”

She listened carefully, but the only sounds echoing through the air were the sound of the faint wind and the crunching leaves.

Marie walked back up near the hood of the car and followed the fading high beams into the woods. She saw a scattered group of trees and a floor of dead, brown leaves, nothing more, but the crunching became louder as if it were approaching her.

In the distance, she noticed an outline of a person, slowing moving below a large tree.

“Hello?” She called out again. “I could really use some help over here! I don’t bite! I just need to get to the hospital!”

Again, there was no reply.

Almost giving up any hope of receiving help, she saw the figure move again.

“ Maybe they can’t hear me,” she uttered, going back into her car and retrieving a flashlight.

She gulped hard and took another deep breath, then made her way through the woods, towards the strange silhouette. She crept soundlessly, not wanting to alarm the elusive figure.

“Excuse me, could you please help me?”

No response.

As she crept closer, the figure began to take shape. It was indeed a man, but he was barely moving. Finally, she was close enough to make him out. Aiming her flashlight directly at the man, her breathing stopped. A scream developed in her throat, but nothing came out when she pried her lips apart. In front of her was a man, a sheet wrapped tightly around his neck and tied to one of the tree’s brittle limbs.

She turned to run, but ran into something soft, yet cold. When she looked up she saw black, bulging eyes starring down at her. The feminine face they were attached to was stark white with light blue lips. Marie backed away from the body as it swayed back and forth from the impact. It was also bounded at the throat and hanging from a tree. Marie twisted her body in another direction, her flashlight homing in on another drooping corpse. This time it was a teenage boy with a thin line of crusted blood below his pale lips, strung up with an old, frayed rope.

Gasping for air, she spun her body around in a circle, the small beam from the flashlight giving way to several hanging bodies throughout the woods, all of them slowly rocking from side to side as they dangled from their brutal deaths.

Dropping to her weakening knees, the flashlight fell from her grasp and she covered her sweaty face with her shaking hands. Her mind brought her back to her private little beach, but something was different. Although she had her damp towel and the sun was shimmering brightly above her, the smell of death was in the air.

She could feel the hands around her neck, slightly applying pressure to her jugular, and then squeezing harder, cutting off her air. Coughing, she opened her eyes to face the darkness, but got more than she expected. Standing above her were the corpses that had been suspended throughout the woods. Each of them grinned down at her, their blue mouths dry and cracked, their teeth chipped and yellowed. Marie could see her reflection in their black eyes as they gazed down at her.

In the center of the group was a familiar white face. She coughed harder when she realized who it was. It was her father. When she reached out to him he approached her with a sinister sneer formed on his lips. Without hesitation, he grabbed her by the throat with his cold, rough hands and began to strangle her. His dingy nails dug into her moist flesh leaving tiny, bloody gashes on her neck.

Marie coughed and gurgled beneath him, placing her hands upon his, trying to pull them off of her. Struggling hard, she freed herself from his grasp and stood up, trying to run from her past, her present, her fear, but she was too weak and although her father’s hands no longer clung to her neck, the invisible ones did.

The mob of corpses gathered around her once again while she wheezed. Her adrenaline taking over, she grabbed the teenage boy and pulled the rope from his neck, then waddled as fast as she could to the closest tree. Sticking the rope in her mouth, she grabbed the tree with both of her hands and climbed to the strongest branch.

When she was settled on top of the branch, she an tied the rope around it, watching the bodies slowly waltz toward the tree she was perched in. When the rope was good and tight, she tied it around her neck, pulling it tensely against the small, fleshy gashes and the invisible hands that were still trying to squeeze the life out of her.

“No more,” she whispered, standing up and balancing herself on the branch.

Marie looked down at the corpses one last time, analyzing their chalky faces and fixing her eyes on the bruised, scabby rope and sheet burns on their necks. Taking one last look at her dead father, she jumped. She quickly plummeted through the air until a loud crunch echoed through the vacant woods.

Then, everything was quiet. Marie’s body hung from the branch, her neck broken and her chin resting against her no longer heaving chest.

The brights from her car began to dim until there was barely any light beaming from them. A soft glow paved the way to the only corpse in the woods: Marie’s.