Fragments Gallery
Reflections: Murder
I’m at a loss for what to write. What I just watched... This one might have scarred me.
Most events I witness are from the distant past. Most reflections I see are from long enough ago that the people I see are no longer alive. Not this one. This one was much more recent and that made it much more... real.
The curious side of me wants to go over there and see if the corpse is still there; I fear that it is. This clearing is far enough off the path that the body may have never been found.
I think I’m going too far ahead in this narrative though. I feel that I should explain what happened, even if all I want to do is forget that I ever saw it.
---
This morning I was restless, so I decided to take a hike. I packed my backpack, almost forgot the water bottles twice, got in my car and drove off to visit the nearby mountains.
Because I was alone I had no intention of going too far into the woods. Instead I decided to drive out to a fairly popular lake and just walk around the edge. I might run into some other folks but I don’t mind. If it does end up being too crowded I can always just venture off on a less used path and find somewhere to sit.
There is a chill in the air so the lake isn’t as crowded as it could be, especially this early in the morning. A few vehicles rest in the parking lot but the owners have already vanished into the woods. Only one lonely boat bobs out in the lake. That’s just fine by me.
I heaved my backpack up onto my shoulders and set off along the rocky beach. Eventually the beach led to a path which in turn wandered a bit away from the lake’s edge. The reflection came out of nowhere before too long. My thoughts were mindlessly wandering through the things going on in my life when the hair on the back of my neck began to tingle. It felt as though I were being followed. Sure enough when I turned around I noticed the reflection.
As always the apparition was silent; he walked quickly but cautiously. The manner in which he moved implied his anxiety. His style of clothing was common to the nineteen nineties which shocked me; it wasn’t often that I saw something that had happened that recently. This man’s narrow face was framed with long black hair.
Something behind the man caught his attention because his head shot around and he stumbled; he crashed to the ground. His breathing became labored and panic shot across his face. Obviously he saw something that terrified him. He launched himself from the ground and took off into the woods; I didn’t follow yet, I was curious who or what was following him so I lingered behind.
Another person strode into view from further down the path. This man trod purposefully, his face an emotionless mask. He wore a black suit with grey shirt and deep blue tie. In his hand rested a smoking gun; he’d just fired it.
It was then that I’d first grown “concerned” about what I was seeing. Since these events had happened long ago there was nothing that I could do to change their course; still I felt anxious. I had to see how this played out so when the man stepped off the path I followed him.
Not once did the man in the suit lose track of the runner; even with the runner out of sight the man calmly and confidently continued along. Clearly he knew how to track, or at very least knew where the runner was going. It didn’t take him long to catch up.
The man entered a clearing, I was following just behind, and at the opposite side near the forest edge the runner had fallen. It seemed that he had tripped and now was having difficulty rising. I stayed behind the suit as he slowed to confront the runner.
The runner yelled something, I’m not sure what as his words were lost in time, and the suit dispassionately replied. Somehow the runner regained his feet and started to sprint but he barely made it a meter into the woods before the gun rose and discharged. After just one shot the man slumped to the ground. He wasn’t moving. The suit approached and coldly fired twice more into his back.
The gun slid back into a holster inside his jacket and then the suit walked away from the scene. I fell to the ground at that. I’d just witnessed a murder. I’ve sat here for some time now trying to decide what to do. Dare I go for a closer look?
My curiosity is getting the better of me; I need to go over there to see what remains.
---
He was still there. I went over, found him, and then got out of there. I’ll walk through what happened.
Already knowing what I would find I cautiously made my way over to that stand of trees. As careful as I tried to be I still found myself tripping over what remained of the corpse. The skeleton was half buried in rotten leaves and other forest debris. Fragments of fabric, flesh, and hair still clung to the weathered bones. Writing about it now I feel like my words seem so cold and emotionless; however I remain horrified.
I couldn’t take that sight; immediately my stomach rebelled and, retching, I stumbled away. As I sit here writing this I’m only a short distance from the skeleton; I can still see it from here. Maybe I should move further away but at the moment I’m not sure I can walk. I feel weak and unsteady.
To get my mind off of what I saw I’m now staring out across the lake. The sun smiles at me through the clouds on the horizon. The water gleams gold and small waves gently lap against the shore. Looking out across the water I can almost forget what I just saw. I can almost forget the horror on that’s man face as his killer gunned him down.
My phone won’t work out here so I need to return to civilization to report my findings. Then someone can come back out here to retrieve the body.
This happened within the last thirty years. The murderer could still be alive out there.
I think I’ll end on that happy note.