My legs will not work, and I am mesmerised by the opening in the ground that is appearing before me. The earthy trapdoor continues to lift with mechanical precision — a perfect square with approximately eighty-inch sides and a living, breathing lid about twenty inches in depth. It spits out more of the grey mist that attaches itself to the existing walls around me. They are closing in on me.
The noise is haunting — as though the earth is letting out a long, smoky exhale. A strange noise leaves my lips — a nonsensical garble of disbelief. And then, from the blackness within, I see something spit out from the hole and begin to float towards the floor. I dare not take my eyes away from the moving lid, but from the corner of my eye I see it land a few feet in front of me. Finally, the groan ends, and the earth stops moving. Briefly I move my eyes away towards the crumpled piece of paper on the grass.
As I bend down to retrieve it, I notice the unmistakable graphic on the front of the faded wrapper. I immediately recognise it as Jodie’s favourite chocolate bar.
Fuck — no!
I run. I sprint into the icy cloud around me, each breath cold and cutting, but the mist does not give. I do not seem to be getting anywhere.
Another groan from behind me.
No — no way!
Urgently I turn, and the mouth of the earth still looms.
“Steve!” her voice drifts from the blackness.
No — this is not happening.
Please — no!
“Steve, help me, please.”
What is this? It cannot be real. Is it my imagination — a projection of the guilt that I feel? It must be.
“Steve,” her voice again — distant — desolate.
She never took a phone or watch with her that day. My parents blamed me for that, and of course I blame myself. I went looking for her every day after she disappeared. I thought she would be okay — I thought we would find her. She is strong — was — was so strong. Suddenly, I break down — the tears come, and I begin to bawl uncontrollably.
Her body was never found.
“Please, Steve.”
But I cannot do it; I cannot go in there.
Wiping the damp from my eyes, I slowly start to back away. The word “sorry” leaves my lips croakily, barely audible. Something grabs the edge of the grass — it is not human, but resembles a hand of some sort — brown, twisted and knotted with small, spindly branches that act like fingers. Then a hand wraps around the opposite side. More mist expels, and another groan sends tremors towards me.
Holy shit!
As the spindly arms begin to pull the unknown creature from the ground, a pair of bright white eyes emerge from the darkness. I continue my retreat, but I am not putting any distance between us — it’s as though the mist is a gaseous barrier holding me in position. With another loud groan, the face finally comes into view, and I let out a silent scream. The makeshift hair is a scattering of dry, tinder-like twigs that continues down the muddy cheeks and underneath the chin. Patchy moss decorates the rest of the earthy face and spreads across the branches that form the human-like shoulders.
Even with the foliage covering most of her face in a muddy, lichen-ridden complexion, I recognise it to be my sister. Or at least some of her. The moss that forms the mouth begins to part, “It’s so peaceful down here Steve, but I’m lonely.”
As she continues to pull herself from the pit the first rickety leg plants itself on the grass in front of me. “You’ll like it down here; the smells and the gentle patter of rain — we can be part of nature together, for eternity.”
I try to speak but cannot find any words.
The second leg emerges, and now the thing is completely out and thrusting itself to an upright position. It is close enough to touch — standing perhaps seven feet tall in front of me. I can smell the dampness from the moss that covers her, and with each tiny movement I hear the gentle cracking of the bough that forms her twisted spine.
“J-Jodie.”
“It’s your fault, Steve. No watch, no phone — that’s what you always said. Don’t tell anyone where you are going, otherwise it’s not an adventure anymore.”
“But I...”
The right arm reaches towards me and wraps itself around my left ankle.
“I’m sorry, Jodie!” I scream.
But the left one follows, stretching itself around my other leg.
“Come on, Brother,” she says.
I crouch down and with both hands, grip the vine-like limbs and try and work myself free, but they are so damp and strong.
It’s useless.
She begins to pull me towards her along the soft wet grass, and I cannot get any
Traction.
“Jodie, please!”
I have carried this blame for so long — it is unfair. I lost her too!
The crippling guilt over the last few months has been unbearable, like a dark cloud that I cannot shake. But this is too much. I do not deserve this!
She steps back into the darkness, and I know that this will now be my fate.
“I’m sorry,” I plead as the tears stream down both cheeks.
“It’s okay. It’s nice down here,” she says.
The eyes turn bright red as she slowly sinks into blackness. I am getting closer to the edge — soon I will be in the pit. I claw at the grass, but it does no good — this is how it will end for me. Perhaps this is what I deserve. The lid begins to come down as I
