Forgotten

Phoebe was nearly home, and she was glad. It had been a long and very much boring shift at the grocery store where she worked, and the bitter winter’s night was heavy, draining all of her energy as she hurried down the street. She could see her house now, with its living room light casting a warm glow onto the front yard. She smiled to herself and quickened her pace. Her mom would probably still be up to make sure she got in OK, and she would be able to grab a hot chocolate, curl up in bed, and read for a while.

Little flakes of snow began to flutter down from the sky, and Phoebe’s heart leapt with excitement. Even though she was now seventeen years old, she still got giddy with happiness when it began to snow. There was something so peaceful and beautiful about the morning arriving in a glittering shimmer of white.

She had been focusing too much upon her home to notice the girl standing in the front yard ahead of her, and Phoebe was right next to her before she noticed her. The girl had always unnerved Phoebe. She was eleven, but small for her age, with straight dark hair and strange dark eyes. It was these eyes that were focused upon Phoebe, and Phoebe awkwardly ran her hand through her own blonde hair.

"Are –" she began, before swallowing and trying again. "Are you all right, Laura?" she managed to ask the small girl.

Laura’s eyes widened slightly, but she said noting. She was standing on the frozen ground in her bare feet, little snowflakes landing upon them and melting into icy water. She twitched her toes slightly, but carried on staring into Phoebe’s face. Phoebe was aware that the girl was only in her small night dress.

"You need to go inside, Laura," Phoebe told her. "You’ll get so cold that you’ll get ill. What’s your mommy doing? Does she know you’re out here?"

Laura shook her head.

"Mommy doesn’t know I’m out here," she said quietly. "Only you do."

"Well, you need to go back inside," Phoebe said, trying to ignore the strange quality to the girl’s voice. "It’s dangerous to be out when you’re only a little girl. Go back to your bed where it’s safe."

Laura shifted her feet slightly. The snow was heavier and it had been beginning to cover up her toes. She glanced at them before looking back up to face Phoebe.

"I can’t go back in," she said softly.

"What? Why not?" Phoebe asked, now worried despite how strange Laura was.

"I’m not allowed," Laura said, watching Phoebe intently. Phoebe blinked, wondering if Laura was being punished. Even so, no matter what she may have done, eleven o’clock on a winter’s night was no time to be kicking an eleven-year-old girl out of her house.

"Why are you not allowed?" Phoebe asked. "I’m sure your mommy and daddy don’t want you to be out here all alone in the cold."

Laura’s strange eyes narrowed and flashed with what was unmistakeably anger.

"Mommy and Daddy don’t care," she hissed. "Mommy and Daddy forgot about me."

"I’m sure they didn’t, Laura –" Phoebe began, startled by the young child’s anger, but Laura cut her off.

"They forgot oh-so quickly," she whispered, her voice dripping with rage. "I have to remind them."

It happened almost too quickly for Phoebe to comprehend. Laura stepped out of her yard, crossed the sidewalk, and went into the road. In the same second there was an awful squeal of brakes, a sickening crunch, and Laura was flipped over the car and landed in the twisted heap on the road. As the car screeched to a halt, Phoebe heard herself scream.

"Oh my God!" she shrieked. "Laura!"

She didn’t want to see what had happened to the child, but she couldn’t just stand there, either. Un-sticking her feet from where they were rooted to the spot, she stumbled to where Laura lay crumpled in the road, blinded by terrified tears.

"Oh Laura," she whispered, as she reached the child. "Please don’t be dead, Laura."

Dropping to her knees, she placed a hand gently on Laura’s shoulder. The child was still, her legs twisted horribly in opposite directions, blood seeping through her hair and pooling around her head. Her strange eyes were open, and Phoebe leaned closer, praying that she would see a flicker of life within them.

There was nothing. The little girl’s pupils were dilated, and Phoebe could tell from her eyes that she was already gone. Letting out a choked sob, Phoebe turned to face the direction the car had been heading in.

She felt her heart skip a horrified beat.

The car was gone.

Phoebe looked back at the dead little girl, tears falling down her cheeks. How could that bastard have killed Laura and then just driven off? How could he?

"It’s all right, Laura," Phoebe whispered, her voice catching as she stroked the child’s hair. "I’m going to have to get your mommy and daddy. It’s OK. You’re safe."

Staggering upright, Phoebe made her way numbly to the front door of the house Laura had been standing in the yard of. What was she going to say? How was she going to tell a mother and a father that their little girl was dead?

The doorbell sounded too loud, almost as loud as the screech of tires and the horrible, awful thud of Laura’s little body. It took a while longer for the door to be answered, given the time of night, but eventually there was the scrape of a key in the lock. Despite her shock, Phoebe was outraged that the door had been locked behind the little girl. Who would lock their own child out at this time of night, in this weather?

A middle-aged woman opened the door, looking confused. Her husband hovered behind her. Phoebe was slightly taken aback by their age. Given Laura’s young age, Phoebe had expected her parents to be younger. The strange thing was, she suddenly realized, she had never seen Laura’s parents before now.

"What could possibly be going on at this time of the night?" the woman asked haughtily, wrinkling her nose at the cold bite from outside.

Phoebe couldn’t think what to say, so she just blurted it out, her voice catching again.

"Your daughter," she stammered. "Laura – there’s been an accident – a car – she’s dead."

There was a long silence, and Phoebe knew something was seriously wrong. She couldn’t explain it, but there was something off about the two adults’ reactions. Eventually, the husband spoke up, his voice as cold and bitter as the night air around Phoebe.

"We have no daughter," he hissed, narrowing his eyes at Phoebe. "What sick game are you playing at, girl?"

"But –" Phoebe stammered. "I just saw, a car came, it didn’t stop. She was hit! She said that she lived here but wasn’t allowed back inside!"

"Shut up," the woman suddenly spat. "What the Hell is wrong with you? We have no daughter!"

"She’s lying on the road over there!" Phoebe yelled, losing her temper, and she pointed back towards the road, turning around to follow the direction she was pointing. She let out a small shriek when her finger nearly touched Laura’s nose. The girl was standing directly behind her, blinking slowly up at her, no trace of the fatal injuries she had seemingly sustained minutes before.

"I told you, they forgot about me," she said softly. "They don’t have a daughter, you see. I was never good enough for them."

Laura peered intently at Phoebe, those large brown orbs of hers piercing through Phoebe’s own blue ones. Phoebe turned to look at her parents, horror etched on her face.

"You do have a daughter," she whispered. "Laura. What happened to her?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Laura’s mother hissed, going to close the door, but overcome by rage, Phoebe threw her weight against it, preventing Laura’s mother from succeeding.

"She’s right here!" Phoebe screamed. "She said you forgot about her!"

"She was evil!" Laura’s mother suddenly screamed. "It was for the best! She had to go!"

"What?" Phoebe demanded. "She was eleven! She was hit by a car! How was it for the best?"

"I wasn’t just hit," Laura whispered. "I was pushed."

"You pushed her?" Phoebe asked, staring at the two adults in front of her in disgust. "How could you? Your own daughter!"

"Who’s been telling you these things?" Laura’s father demanded. Phoebe let out a maniacal laugh quite unlike her usual laugh.

"Laura did!" she declared. "She’s right here, you bastard!"

Laura moved forward at that moment, and smiled at her father.

"Hello, Daddy," she said softly, however her father’s eyes stayed trained upon Phoebe’s face. "And hello, Mommy."

Again, her mother’s eyes snapped to Phoebe, rather than Laura.

Phoebe stood completely still as she watched Laura suddenly pull a knife from behind the plant pot next to the door. She smiled at her parents and raised it.

"Now you remember me," she whispered, and suddenly, without warning, she plunged the knife into her father’s chest.

"Laura! Don’t!" Phoebe screamed, but Laura wasn’t listening, instead providing the same treatment to her mother. Phoebe stood, frozen in shock, as Laura’s parents crumpled to the floor before her eyes.

"Thank you, Phoebe," Laura giggled softly, and then she turned and walked back down to the end of the front yard.

"Thank you?" Phoebe asked suddenly, finally finding her voice. "For what?"

Laura smiled, but didn’t answer. She calmly resumed her watching of the dark, snowy street.

Phoebe, confused, looked down at the red-sprayed snow at her feet.

Her hands were covered in blood.

She was holding the knife.

Laura was gone.

"No," Phoebe whispered, and she turned, and ran.