Fiction logo

The Story of Abigail Adelaide

Ghost Ride 'Revised'

By M.O. LeClairPublished 2 years ago 9 min read
1
The Story of Abigail Adelaide -- Ghost Ride 'Revised'

I'm tired and it's raining hard. The road ahead is so foggy I can barely see it. It feels like I've been on highway forty-eight forever. My eyelids felt like they weighed a ton and my head started to fall toward the steering wheel. Been mostly me and my little red car out on the road tonight and it's late, extremely late. What a long day its been.

By Jan Huber on Unsplash

"Wake up, Jasper! You're falling asleep!" I said aloud to myself.

I've been driving for about seven hours. I knew I should've stopped at that motel a few miles back. I'll catch the next one, I guess. It's been such a long day, I'm so exhausted. I looked up and saw something white off in the distance. Flowing fabric caught in a branch? No, not fabric; it was a person -- a little girl.

She wore a white dress with pink ribbons and was holding a teddy bear. The teddy also had a pink ribbon, tied around its neck. It looked like it came from her dress. She was quite disheveled. There appeared to be black dirt or something on her face. Her dress was dirty too.

By Caroline Hernandez on Unsplash

What was she doing out here in the middle of the night, all alone? It's 3:15am. I put my turn signal on and pulled into the lane closest to the side of the road. I started to slow down. She didn't wave or walk closer; she just stood there.

"Hello? Do you need help?" I asked, "Would you like a ride anywhere?"

No response. She looked at me, but it was like she couldn't see me; or more so like she was looking right through me.

"Hello? Little girl? Can you hear me?" I waved my hand at her, but still nothing.

Should I call someone? That would be best. It's what anyone else would do, right? I looked down at my phone and of course there wasn't a signal. I couldn't just leave her out here like this, all alone, and I couldn't just pick her up and put her in the car, either. What should I do?

By Wassim Chouak on Unsplash

My thoughts were interrupted by a quiet, shaking voice.

"M-M-Morely." she said.

"Morely?" I repeated, knowing the street.

She nodded her head yes, slowly, and not blinking. She kept eye contact with me. I felt locked in on her, like I couldn't look away.

"As in Morely Road? I know where that is. Do you need a ride there? Is that where you live?"

Still not saying a word, she walked zombie-like toward my car. Her tiny, pale white arm reached for my car door handle. It almost looked as though a pull on the heavy car door would snap such a frail-looking limb. She opened the door without struggle and slid inside without shutting it; without saying a word. I reached over her slowly -- careful not to startle her, and I pulled the door closed.

I started the drive to Morely Road. It wasn't far, but something told me it would seem so.

By Julia Kuzenkov on Unsplash

"What's your teddy friend's name?" I asked. I tried to make conversation until we got there.

She didn't answer.

"What does your house look like? Do you know your house number? Is your mommy home?"

Still, no answer. Absolutely nothing. Not a blink, movement, or twitch. A warmness came over my entire body, even though it was quite chilly outside.

By Samuel Svec on Unsplash

I started to slow my car down as we approached Morely Road. She will see her house and let me know, I'm sure of it. She seems old enough to know that sort of thing.

I drove slowly past each house on the winding street. The dark, tree-covered road had an eerie feel. I looked at her face as we passed each one, looking for any sort of reaction. But nothing. All the lights were out in all the houses; well, all except one.

This one had a giant red door, with a Christmas wreath on it; and a candle lit in the window. The flame flickered, as though it were fire fingers, calling us to it. As we approached the cozy-looking, dimly lit dwelling, she raised her arm slowly and pointed to that exact house. That warm feeling from earlier, was burning intensely inside of me now. What's happening to me?

"Is this your house?" I asked her. I tried my darnedest to stay as calm as possible, and not to show her my inner agony. I didn't want to scare her further.

I stopped the car. Before it even fully stopped, she opened the car door, ran up the five concrete steps to the house, and knocked three times. I stayed in my car and observed if anyone opened it. An older-looking woman opened the door a crack, and then fully.

The little girl jumped in her arms, they hugged and quickly both went inside. The woman looked like she could be the grandmother of the little girl. She looked too old to be her mother.

By Ekaterina Shakharova on Unsplash

Should I go knock myself, and ask the woman why this little girl was out here all alone, this late at night? Is it even my business? She's home safe now. The little girl knew the woman and the woman knew the little girl. It's not even like she was missing at all; so strange.

If I had a kid and she were out at this hour, all alone on a highway, I would have some significant questions upon her arrival home. She hugged the little girl like it was 3:00pm in the afternoon, not 3:00am in the morning.

I fought with myself about what to do; I chose to leave. I began to drive off but noticed something pink out of the corner of my eye. I looked down. In my passenger seat sat her teddy bear. The one with the pink ribbon around its neck. Oh no! She forgot her teddy friend!

I immediately pressed the brakes and put my car in park. I got out and walked up to the door, teddy in hand. I knocked quietly a few times. I heard some shuffling coming toward the door and it opened.

"Yes? May I help you, sir?" said the older-looking woman from earlier.

By Nathan Anderson on Unsplash

"There's a little girl I assume who lives here? I just drove her home. I saw you open the door and let her in, you hugged. I've found her out here in the middle of the highway all alone, at this hour. Anyway, she left her teddy bear in my car and I'm just bringing it back; every little girl needs her teddy." I spoke and handed over the teddy bear, with an awkward smile. I was on fire now. Burning up inside.

The woman smiled. She didn't even look angry or confused as to why this little girl was out at this hour, or why I'm at her door at such a time. Her smile turned into a frown. She looked up at me as though she had just lost her best friend. Tears filled her eyes.

"I'm so very sorry for your loss, sir." she apologized.

"My loss? What loss? Why are you sorry?" I asked. I started to cool down -- to almost freezing temperatures now. I began to shiver, uncontrollably. What was going on?

By Kyle Cleveland on Unsplash

"There is no little girl who lives here, per se, however, one used to. Her name was Abigail Adelaide. She and her poor mother were in a terrible, horrific, accident a few years back, out on that highway you just came from. Her mother fell asleep while driving home from Abigail's seventh birthday party. It was pouring rain, much like it is tonight. Unfortunately, they were both killed.

The car was found burned beyond recognition, in the ditch beside the highway. It rolled over a few times before landing at its final destination. It burned for quite some time before any help arrived. Caught fire instantly.

The body of Abigail's mother was found inside the car, severely burned. Abigail's body was never found. She was so tiny, poor little thing just burned away. There were just pieces of pink ribbon floating everywhere, because of the high winds from the thunderstorm. And her teddy bear was found some way away, as it must have flown out of the vehicle during the rollover.

"That cemetery over there," she pointed to the old graveyard across the street, with her long, white as snow index finger, "that's where her mother is buried. Legend has it, she comes out of her grave on nights like this one especially, and watches over Abigail -- and the sleepy souls of the highway."

The old woman paused.

I was morgue like at this point. I was sweating and convulsing with tremors. How did I go from burning up like a furnace to being as cold as steel, within seconds?

"Nowadays, you just hear stories of little Abigail, bringing home the lost souls of others -- others who were also killed on that highway, by falling asleep at the wheel. Please, sir, do come in. Again, I'm so extremely sorry for your loss."

I didn't know what to say, my legs felt weak. I stepped inside. She showed me a seat and turned on the radio. It was full of static, but I heard what was being said. She didn't say another word and pointed to the radio. I sat. My legs were quivering badly now. The man on the radio was giving the traffic report.

"This just in. Horrible, horrible accident on highway forty-eight, just north of Shady Acres, early this morning. It happened between three and four, said a witness. You might want to stay away from that road if you can; try and find another route. Police and ambulance are on the scene now. One of our reporters drove by the wreckage, a few short moments ago. She told us she couldn't see much because it was pouring out. What she could see were the remains of what looked like a little red car, and a teddy bear. There were also ribbons. Pink ribbons, floating everywhere.

© Copyright 2021 M.O. LeClair - Room with a View Productions

All rights reserved.

Horror
1

About the Creator

M.O. LeClair

'Concrete Jungle' (#Novel) by M.O. LeClair: www.amazon.ca/dp/B09FG7SKXR

'Sidewalk High' (#Novel) by M.O. LeClair: www.amazon.ca/dp/B0CVFSYL3L

#eBook #Paperback #Hardcover #Audiobook #Author #Director

(Both audiobooks released June, 2024)

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.