Urban Legend

The night held the creaking sounds of old tree branches leaning into each other and rubbing slowly back and forth when Sarah thought she heard the cry of a small child bleating in between the rhythmic moans. She stopped walking and breathing for a long pause, waiting to hear the sound repeat itself, but there was nothing. She walked forward a few paces when it was repeated, only this time louder and nearer. She glanced around wide eyed, seeking the shadows for a human child's shape, but saw only the pointed silhouettes of dark naked branches reaching skyward in front of darker shadows.
Sarah always walked this path home through the small woods that separated her family's farm from the S'okay Bar and Grill where she worked as a waitress and she had never felt fear or that she was being watched, until tonight. It had started earlier in the evening, right after the Wild Wolves finished their game, winning the first game of the season and bringing in most of the small town into the S'okay Bar and Grill for drinks, ice cream and dinner. The talk had been fast and furious between the players and their fans, money and words sloshing around with the drinks that seemed to be never ending coming and passing hands. It was in this rush that the hairs on the back of her neck had risen and she began to look around warily for the person who she felt was staring at her. But there hadn't been anyone accept for the patrons, who had not really made eye contact with her when they made their demands.
She had worked later than usual, her shoes biting into her feet by the end of the night and she had put her them up for twenty minutes and talked with Bertie the manager until he closed shop, and they had left at the same time, him offering her a ride as always, she declining as always.
Now, in the creaking sighing woods she regretted that decision, for the feeling of being watched pressed on her stronger and the weeping child, for it was weeping seemed to bounce around her off the trees and into the ground below her feet. Through the branches she could see the lights of her home gleaming at her, winking in a teasing fashion through the black lashed shape of trees.
Her feet seemed to be pulled down with each step, as if they were sinking into quick sand or being pulled back as if she only walked a tread mill instead of her usual nightly walk home. Pausing briefly she removed her feet from her shoes, immediately relieving them of extra weight and taking the pressure off of her newly gained blisters from a full day and night on her feet. She found it easier to walk, and with her heavy shoes no longer clomping along the forest floor she could make out the noises around her better, allowing her to hear the distinct voice of the child who was now weeping the one word, "Why? Why? Why" over and over again.
Sarah dropped her shoes and took flight, her bare feet pattering through the woods, and up the rocky terrain to her house, where she struggled momentarily with her keys, putting the wrong one in and sobbing softly in breathy rasps as she twisted and turned it back and forth before realizing it must be the front door key. Moments later, having found the right key and forcing it in to the hole and unlocking the door, she stood on the inside of her house, leaning against the locked door, relief filling her.
She forced herself from window to window, snapping shut each and every shade, turning on every single light until the safety of her own home allowed her to relax slightly and convince herself that what she had heard was the workings of her over active imagination and her sleep deprived self.
Upstairs she started the bathwater, carrying her cell phone and home phone with her. It had been three days since she had heard from Eddie, and she knew that if she didn't have the phone right beside her, it would be while she was immersed in the white noise of her running bath that he would call her. She slipped into the bath, placed a warm wash cloth over her pounding forehead and closed her eyes. It was then that the intense feeling of being watched pounded into her, so strong that she startled up as if awoken from a bad dream and knocked her home phone into the bath tub. Swearing she retrieved it quickly and started to shake the water out of it, while her eyes traveled around her small pink tiled bathroom. There was no window in this room and the door was closed and locked, there was no way anyone was watching her. She decided it must be a side effect of her head ache that was now pounding in her ears with the sound of her pulsing blood. She dried off the home phone and pressing the on button she brought it to her ear. For a moment she heard nothing and then above the sound of her pounding heartbeat she could have sworn she heard a child whisper one questioning word in her ear before the low buzz of the phone reverberated through her ear.
Scared and shaking she tossed the home phone from her and on to her pile of towels. She stood, water streaking off her body and down into the bath, the bottom of her hair dark and wet clinging to her shoulders as she began to shake in fear. The bath grew cold around her feet before she became aware of herself again, and she stepped methodically out of the water, picking up the towels and wrapping her hair and body in them, letting the home phone roll on to the floor without touching it. She had just placed her hand on the door knob when she heard the small ting of her cell phone coming from behind her. "Eddie!" She thought, relief filling her and she picked it up quickly and froze staring at the caller I.D. box that said simply, "Home." Slumping down on to her knees, she raised the phone to her ear, as she opened it. "Why?" it whispered at her before she slid into oblivion.