The sound of a babbling brook. Footsteps heavy and rattling resounding throughout. Heavy breathing the smacking of lips. Shifting for a moment before a voice.
A woman’s…a girl’s. Young maybe 16 or 17 at most with a deep tone. A Pacific accent common on the northwest coast of the united states of America ringing out. Softened and tired and hesitant.
“You know it was a rather cold day outside when it happened? Snowing and everything in fact and perhaps I had a bit of a grin on my face at the time. I had heard the rumors of course occasionally seen a paper or two.”
The sound of cracking a faint gulp. A bottle being unsealed and a voice coming back in a lower intonation. The sound of rustling and an intake of breath before they continued.
“But we all know about such rumor mills. Gossip and dumb things like that. It was what I assumed it was. The media all riled up over nothing or flat out making something up.”
A venom entering their tone. A crushing of underbrush and a thwack of something being cut. A clear gritting of teeth and yet still they seem to speak.
Perhaps to torture themselves.
Growing lower and lower. More pained more anger filling their tone. Mad at themselves furious at their own ineptitude perhaps? How worthless their life truly was?
Was she thinking this?
How much blame resided in that tone?
“When it did hit?”
That was the tone of someone who wanted to scream this out loud. Who wanted to hurt someone or something. Who was on the verge of tears.
“When it hit my family?”
A sob held back and then…
End of tape 1#
Trembling hands. A scowl marked on the woman’s face. Blue eyes. Angular face and flat chested. Tears streaming wanting to crush the tape staring at the night sky. Wandering to the cabin they could see unlocked and opened.
Blond hair ragged and long. Clothes ragged and splattered. White shirt looking terrible. Leather hunting jacket scratched and burned. Jeans torn at the knee and covered in blood. Hunting boots steel toed on their feet.
Lacking socks. An empty hunting rifle on her back and a sheathed kitchen knife on her hip. Stumbling into the cabin shutting it behind her. Collapsing on a ruined bed.
Uncaring of any dangers that might come or might lurk in the shadows.
She just wanted to sleep and forget.