mikayla franklin

Through Their Eyes

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Before you turn the page what if at exactly 3:33 a.m., someone whispered your name from the woods. Would you answer? Even if the voice belonged to someone who disappeared years ago. Even if the townspeople insisted they never existed. Even if every instinct in your body begged you to run. Imagine standing in a cemetery where every gravestone is facing you instead of the sky. The wind suddenly stops. The birds go silent. Then, somewhere between the trees, a girl you’ve buried in your memories slowly raises her hand. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t cry. She simply mouths two words. Help me. And before you can move something in the darkness smiles. Turn the page. It has been waiting for you.

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