Young Writers Society

Autumn pulled up to the cemetery, her motorcycle's wheels crunching on the gravel road. She turned it off and shoved the key into the pocket of her leather jacket. After depositing her helmet on the seat she adjusted the bag on her back and began the walk through the gravestone-littered field to her mother's plot. Once a week, every week, she came her to pay her respects to her long gone mother. By now she knew every name on every gravestone she passed. The one she knew best was Abigail Parker, 1994-2007. It made her sad to think that Abigail had only had thirteen years of life. After losing her mother at such a young age, Autumn had come to appreciate life. Sometimes it made her reckless, always living life to the extreme, but it also made her a better person. She was kinder than she might have been otherwise. But sometimes she was also suspicious. She didn't trust people as much as she used to, mostly because she had always blamed the doctors for not being able to save her mother. She felt as if humanity had betrayed her.

Now as Autumn was about to pass Abigail's grave she saw there was someone there. Dressed in black skinny jeans and combat boots, a gray hoodie pulled up so Autumn couldn't see her face, she stood perfectly still, watching the grave.

Not wanting to disturb her Autumn skirted around a different way, but she felt eyes trained on the back of her head. She glanced over her shoulder briefly but the figure was still staring at the grave. She shook her head and proceeded to her mother's grave.

She reached into her backpack and pulled out this weeks bouquet, rose and tulips, her mother's favorite flowers. She set them on the ground and turned to go, not wanting to linger. The silent figure was starting to make her nervous. She walked through the maze of graves quickly, wanting to get back to her motorcycle. Then she heard the figure speak.

"I warned her you know. Abigail."

Autumn paused, eyes flitting around the cemetery. They were the only two there, so she knew the stranger was speaking to her. "Uh, warned her about what?" Autumn silently hoped the person wouldn't reply, but she did.

"I told her not to go to that party. There was a fire and she never got out. She didn't heed my warning, and she died that night."

Autumn blinked. She had seen the gravestone a hundred times but never known how Abigail Parker had died. "Oh," she said, not quite sure what else to say.

The figure suddenly turned to her and she saw her face. Black hair framed her pale, almost white, skin and brilliantly green eyes shone like emeralds out of the shadows of the hoody. "Don't take the highway on the way home, Autumn Summers."

Autumn's eyes widened. "How do you know my name?" she asked, backing up a few steps.

"Don't take the highway." She said again, her eyes flashing. Autumn took another step back, then turned and ran. Her heart pounded as she winded through the gravestones, trying to put as much distance as possible between her and the creeper..

She reached her motorcycle and climbed on quickly, jamming the helmet onto her head. She took one glance at the distant figure, who stood in the same place as before, then drove away. Her mind reeled and she unconsciously took the same route as she did every week. Half a mile up the back road, then turn onto Highway 65.

She began to calm down as she turned onto the highway. The woman back there was just some sort of crazy person, probably harmless, just trying to freak her out.

Autumn got in the right lane and started to pass a semi on her left. The woods on the right sped past and she had finally relaxed when a brown blur jumped in front of her. She slammed on the brakes, screaming, "What the hell!"The deer shot past her and she breathed a sigh of relief. Crashing into a deer on a motorcycle was not a good idea.

It continued to cross the road and her mind suddenly clicked into panic again. The deer was crossing in front of the semi and somehow Autumn had ended up in its blind spot.

The semi started to swerve into her and she screamed, knowing she didn't have enough time to get out of the way. The back of the huge truck smashed into her and her last thought was of the strange woman's words.

She didn't heed my warning and she died that night.

Don't take the highway.