Sounding like death itself, the howling closed in on her. Delusional at this point, she couldn’t tell if the sound was just a result of the wind blowing around the trees or from actual animals of the forest.
Feeling tears spill from her eyes, she began to slowly move her arms and legs in the snow drift – absent-mindedly humming a nameless tune to herself as attempting to make one last snow angel. Perhaps she’d end up as an angel herself, she thought, floating high above the universe like a beautiful bald eagle or hawk.
Out of the darkness, a voice…
“Does the forest frighten you?”
Lindsey’s eyes fluttered open. She half-expected to be walking through the pearly white gates of heaven.
A pale, white face stared down at her.
It was a frail little girl. Perhaps a few years older than Lindsey, she was dressed plainly in a white, frayed dress that hung way down below her knees. Torn and ragged, the dress resembled more of a nightshirt than anything. And it was filthy -- she appeared as if she hadn’t taken a bath in over a month.
Lindsey wanted to ask her why she was barefoot, but instead found another word tumbling out from her cold, wet, numb lips, “Wolves…”
The little girl looked surprised. “Wolves?"
“Didn’t you hear… the howling?”
This statement clearly startled the ghostly girl. Lindsey could barely keep her eyes open. Pushing aside an errant lump of tangled, dirty hair away from her face, the little girl then leaned in closer to Lindsey, and for a moment, appeared to be studying her.
“You’re the one, aren’t you?” she questioned.
The little girl’s skin was so pale it was almost translucent. Lindsey thought she could almost see the very tendons along her jaw line move while she talked, along with the blood in her veins.
Believing she was already dead, Lindsey mumbled, “Are you an angel?”
A repulsed look abruptly replaced the smile on the little girl’s face. As if Lindsey’s words could somehow physically harm her, she jerked backwards and retreated quickly back into the forest.
Lindsey closed her eyes and went to sleep.
