The River Where I Sleep

Alongside a flowing river, a poster blows into the water. It is Maddy Murch, age 9. She has long brown hair and a smile that still shines through the faded, dingy and torn paper. The word MISSING printed above her head is barely legible. Several locals claimed to have seen her throughout the years, but unfortunately, it wasn’t her body they saw, it was her soul.

Underneath the collapsing bridge where this little girl “haunts” or actually “roams” until someone recovers her body, a dad, mom and their toddler Jace are canoeing down the deep, flowing river. The boy looks over and waves at the river side as he eats his chip and smiles. His mom looks over but nobody is there. She looks back at her son, shrugs it off and smiles at him.

Maddy waves back at him feverishly, wearing a pale pink nightgown to her knees. Not too many people can see her so when one does, it brings joy back into her lifeless shell that is invisible to most.

Later that year, four teenage girls are rafting down the forceful river on a hot summer day sipping their mixed alcohol drinks complaining about how hot it is and how exhausted they are. They’re too sore to row. They are just done. One of the girls plops her oar inside the boat and lays back, exhausted, dehydrated and drunk. She looks at the top of the bridge then screams, “There she is! There’s that girl!”

Maddy glides along the top of the hand rail of that same dilapidated, rusted bridge. As if there was a glass curtain in front of her, she vanishes, but not before giving the teenager a gentle smile and kind wave.

She was right there! I swear! I’m not even drunk! Kelly screams.

The other girls look up but see nothing. Kelly’s face drains to a white tint, clearly terrified, but her friends are just too tired and sweaty to care.

Another sighting came just a year ago right on the bridge where Maddy spends her days and nights reliving the day her soul was forced out of her tiny body.

Four teenagers huddle around a flickering candle. Beer bottles everywhere. Seventeen year old, Tim, leader and delinquent of the group, spits downwards through a missing portion of the bridge. The river roars underneath. Cricket’s chirp and fire flies light up the blackened sky. They are cold, drunk and tired. Exhausted and defeated, they try to get warm by the candle they are using to summon the dead girl.

Another teenager, Cassy, desperately pleads, “Come on, please answer us! Is there a little girl here? Hello... hello?”

And for just a split second, the child’s side of her face, as if looking down, appears... then disappears. Brady, sixteen, and Tim see her. Their eyes widen as they quickly grab each other and fumble to get up!

“What was that?!” Brady whispers.

Brady and Tim jump over their backpacks and bolt. Cassie and Ally, fifteen, scream as they dart away leaving behind their belongings.

One beautiful morning. Maddy holds a frog up to her face and smiles. “I was only seen four times, but the fourth time was the best.”

Pappy, a sweet mannered man in his seventies, throws his fishing line down into the rushing waters below. Beer bottles and garbage cover the rusted bones of a bridge that’s ready to collapse. He pays no mind to the bottles and debris that surround his home away from home.

Middle-aged officer Rogers, with his gut sticking over his gun belt, greets his pal. “Catch anything?”

Pappy, “Nope.”

Officer Rogers hands him a little black book and a pen as he kicks over some beer cans with disgust. “Look at this place. I get calls every day...kids drinking, getting hurt, falling in... Tetanus shots... séances. All to see that little girl’s ghost.” He points to the little black book. “That’s a petition... two hundred names and this bridge gets torn down. So go ahead and sign it so this old, tired bridge can come down and rest like that poor little dead girl.

Pappy signs it. “Damn kids! I’ve been coming here my whole life. This bridge is like a friend that grew old with me.”

“Sorry, Pappy, but we just got a twenty-thousand dollar grant to knock this rust bucket down. Your signature is the last one I need. I didn’t forget about you. There’s gonna be a small deck upstream for you and other fisherman. That can be your new friend.”

Maddy’s ghostly tiny frame crawls towards the officer on the hand rail. She slowly creeps right to his face and stares at it, recognizing him.

She tells her little frog and newcomers, Miss Chipmunk and Baby Mini Mouse, “It was him. The man that makes me sleep in the river. He looks different in his uniform. He’s all cleaned up. I remember the mole on his cheek. That was him all right! I remember my daddy said the dog had to go out. I told him I’d take him, but before I even got a chance to walk him, I went outside in my nightgown to see how cold it was and my dog just shot right passed me. I ran after him but I was no match. I ran all the way down the road to find him. That’s when HE pulled up. He just grabbed me like a rag doll. He took me to the woods and did such horrible things to me. I’d have to cover your ears little froggie. He’s a very bad man.

She goes back to her fourth sighting.

The officer scans over his petition not feeling his victim’s soul gazing at him only inches from his face, but as he makes eye-contact with her, he becomes startled as if his mind’s eye subconsciously locks into her eyes. He quickly turns to leave, clearly affected and spooked. He nods to his fellow townsman, “Well good luck, Pappy. Thanks for signing.”

Maddy stands up on the bridge and smiles a huge smile as Pappy nods his head good-bye to the officer. She jumps down from the guard rail and skips away.

Maddy’s soft voice fills the air as other insects and little rodents join her story time. “I knew he saw me. I guess that’s why he wants the bridge torn down.”

She walks to the river bed. Her listeners in tow. Beautiful flowers, bushes and trees surround her.

“He doesn’t want any kids snoopin’ around to find me. But maybe when they take down the bridge a work guy will find me or maybe somethin’ left over from my body will be down there, then maybe I can leave this place.”

She enters the water. “It’s been three years I’ve been stuck here but maybe I have to stay ‘til they catch him.”

She giggles at a fish that tickles her leg. “It’s not Heaven, but close. It never rains. I got birds that sing and bees that buzz and all the animals are my friends. They visit every day. To her friends, “And thanks guys!” Butterflies land on her hand.

She looks across the river then smiles, “If you can hear me mama and daddy, my best friend is the river. I call her, Jewel. I love to listen to her. She makes me smile.”

Later, on the river bank below the bridge, fireflies circle her and a raccoon visits.

Maddy strokes the fur of her friend. “I used to be afraid of ghosts... and now I am one. And I’m not scary a bit.” Her face grows sad. She tries to fight back the tears, “Any minute I’ll be pulled back to do it all over again.” Right before I go back every night, I always say... “Throw your necklace so someone’ll find it!” But, I can’t get that message to myself when I’m alive. And when I AM alive, I don’t remember being dead or any of you guys. But after seeing him today, I have so much energy. Maybe tonight’s the night I can get that message to... me. Maybe this time I’ll leave my necklace and Pappy’ll find it! It happened three years ago but I’m gonna keep tryin’!” The raccoon licks her hand. She bites her nails, and waits patiently.

Suddenly, her soul is ripped backwards.

The moonlight and street lamp light the bridge. Maddy’s eyes fly open, panicked. She focuses in on her surroundings. She sees the river through the wooden slats as he makes his way down the bridge. She tries to liquefy and get released from his hold, but this infuriates him. Right before he slams her down, she stops punching as if she was listening to someone -- As if her dead self finally got through.

She rips off her necklace and flings it through the air, then screams at the top of her lungs, “Nooo! Noooo! Help me!”

Her necklace lands on the ground wedged between two rickety old moldy boards, directly under where Pappy fishes every day. A tiny smear of blood across the name MADDY catches the moonlight and shines in the distance.

Officer Rogers, with hate in his eyes, clutches her throat with both hands until she stops squirming. He takes out some rope from his pocket and ties her hands together, then makes his way to her feet and then ties them together.

She opens one eye then quickly shuts it and pretends to be dead.

He attaches the rope from her feet to the rope from her hands so she can’t escape. He stands up then picks up her lifeless body. As he goes to toss her over the side of the bridge like a bag of garbage, he steps on a nail sticking out of a piece of a weathered wood. He lets out a blood curdling scream! “God damn it! God damn son of a bitch!”

He props her body on the guard/hand rail. There’s barely enough room for her petite frame. She teeters on the edge, but his hand keeps her from rolling off. She opens her eyes and looks down and sees the dark river roaring below her.

He steps down on the board and slowly removes his foot from the nail while grunting to ease his pain. Maddy’s tiny voice fills the night. “No... Please... Please don’t. I won’t tell anybody. I have to find my dog. Please!

As if he was mad at her for talking while he was in pain, he looks at her with the devil peering out of his eyes. Shut up! Your dog’s long gone!”

He forcefully pushes her off the bridge.

She collides with the water. Bubbles pour out of her mouth as she tries to break free from the rope’s death grip. She quickly sinks deeper into the depths of the dark water. But within minutes, only a few bubbles percolate from her nose until she gently settles at the bottom completely still.

Her “Maddy” necklace shines for the first time on the bridge.

The next morning, Pappy makes his way to his everyday spot. As he leans down and puts his old coffee container filled with worms down, he notices a tiny glare in the morning sun. He gently tugs on a necklace careful not to break it as it’s wedged deep. It’s rusty with dried dirt and a bit of brown blood stains it, but the name “Maddy” is still as clear as day. “What in the world? It’s her!”

That night, Maddy’s hope soars. Maybe now she will be found.

Her face looks angelic... still and peaceful. Her long hair swirls in the water at the bottom of the river.

Maybe soon I can leave this river side, but for now...this is where I sleep.