THE HUNG GIRL Bobby and Drake were very good friends who once decided to go for fishing
at a nearby small river on a Sunday, beside an unknown countryside. The day was a bit cloudy but not rainy at all. Instead there was this cool breeze flowing around the scenery. The two friends settled down by the bank with their fishing rods while chatting and gossiping about their families and colleagues and many other things. They were in a very good mood that day and their topics seemed string less as they went on and on. After sometime, Drake looked around and noticed the surrounding. The wild countryside gave a dreamy look with a light mist hanging over it, and then, behind them were the mountains. “Why don't we take some pictures, eh? Its a beautiful place and I want to come here again.” said Drake as he saw Bobby artistically brandishing his fishing rod; two trouts were sticking at the end. “Yeah, I have got my old cam in the left pocket of my bag. Get a move on then, you are good at taking photographs!” Bobby encouraged smiling. So, after taking out Bobby's camera, Drake quickly started taking pictures of the various sceneries while Bobby watched him admiringly. He said, “What do you reckon, you'll win that photograph competition or what?” “Dunno. I am not that good at it. But I reckon I'll.” said Drake with a little show off attitude. After clicking some shots, he looked at Bobby and said, “I think, its insane clicking of photos without my friend in it. Why don't you give a pose for me?” he chuckled. Bobby agreed and so they chose a well lighted spot under a very old birch tree. It was beautiful with its branches spreading out in every direction and massive as well. It was as if you could feel it if you stayed still for sometime under it. Drake shot a picture of Bobby. “Now why don't you stand over there huh?” he asked Bobby but Bobby said, “Maybe some other time. I am certainly feeling very tired today. Tired and sleepy. Lets go home shall we.” said Bobby yawning. So, the two friends packed of and went home. The film was given at a shop to develop it into photos. “I think I really must go home Drake. I'll come to see the photo tomorrow.” Bobby said at the shop. He looked really tired indeed. Drake felt it strange as mostly his friend was a very active person and small things like fishing had had no effect on him before. That night, at some one or two, a sad telephone call found its way to Drakes house. When Drake answered, a female voice (Bobby's aunt) said, “Oh Drake, sad news! After Bobby came from your fishing trip, he was so tired and ill, he was admitted to the hospital. And-and now he's dead!” the aunt bursted out in the telephone only while Drake stood there in silence. He was the most shocked of all. It was as if a thunder had struck him somewhere on his heart. Bobby dead? His good old friend from the start of his school days was dead! But he was alright in the morning! Then why? A lot of investigation took place over Bobby Crisswell's mysterious death. Post Morten reports said, he didn't have any kind of illness, nor was it a murder. His death might have been caused by some shock or something that has frightened
him to death. On the other side, his family members were telling what exactly happened. His mother was wailing while his stronger-from-inside aunt said, “Whe-when Bobby returned, he we-went straight in his room and shut it. He was a very o-pen persoon and very rarely did something like-like this! “But we g-gave i-it away thinking that may-be he-he was tired. He didn't come out at all, and when I went to call him downstairs for-for dinner, he just-t said “hummm . . .” from within his locked door. Then, we went ter-to bed. At some midnight, I felt very thirsty. There was no water left in the bottle on my bedside table, so I go-got out of my-my bed and went downstairs to get some water out of the freezer. And then I-I saw, as I reached the second landing of the house, that the do-or of Bobby's room was open and the lights were on as well. But what I saw when I-I went inside was much more terrifying. “ I saw that Bob-by was still ly-lying on h-his bed, his eyes open, but still. H-his head was awkwardly pointing upwards at the ceiling and he was staring there with the most frigh-tenning expression. He looked scary as well as scared. Ye-yes, he had a terrifying expression on his face. I screa-med and soon the whole house was around him. He was still-still breathing, but very-very slowly. We called the ambulance and also admitted him but after sometime the doctor said-said he was d-dead!” ended Bobby's aunt stuttering due to grief anyways. Nobody found out what really frightened Bobby death. This was Sunday, almost a week past the event. Drake was sitting near the window that how he and Bobby had gone fishing just the previous Sunday when another strange phone call found its to his home. It was from a photo shop, the one in which he had given that film on the day of fishing to develop. He had forgotten to take the photos of course. That might have been the reason that he had received this call. But it was strange that the shop manager himself should call him for such a minor thing. And what he said was much more strange, “Sir, I believe you gave a film to develop the previous Sunday, you and your partner?” “Yes.” replied Drake. “Well sir,I would like you to come at our shop today for once. There is something very important show you. Why don't you come at five this evening?” said the manager seriously. “Well alright I'll come. But if it is about the photos I didn't take that day then . . .” “No sir, it is much more important then that. I know you must be feeling confused and what I am going to say might even sound to you as insane, but this bloke, I mean your partner who came with you that day, I have a feeling that he might not be alright. Well, how is he?” the manager asked. “Well, my friend Bobby Crisswell is dead.” stated Drake impatiently. He hated to think the fact again and again that his dear friend is no more there. He added “And I don't know what you mean or you are saying. How do you know-?” “Well sir, that I can explain to you if you visit our shop. I am sorry to hear that he is dead. You might even bring his family also. But this might shock you all. I am sorry to say.” said the manager. “Oh-OK I'll come.” replied Drake and put the visitor down. So, at five that evening, Drake with Bobby's aunt and father, went to the photo shop. The manager welcomed them gravely after being introduced. “I am sorry to hear that your son in no more Mr. Crisswell.” he addressed Bobby's father. “But
before showing this, I want to know what really happened to him that night when he died. This is very important. Please follow me.” the manager said and directed them towards a private room. As soon as they reached privacy, Bobby's aunt poured out the story all over again. The father was looking grave of course. Drake simply didn't take a word in. The way hope Bobby died was quite painful to hear over again. “You say there was no sign of illness or murder or anything at all?” said the manager curiously. “No, nothing.” replied Bobby's aunt. The manager shoved out an envelop. It looked new. “Mr. Hillman.” he addressed Drake. “These are the photographs that we had developed from the film you gave us that day. Maybe now we can know the reason of Bobby Crisswell's mysterious death.” said the manager as he took out one of the photos of the envelop. “There was only one photo I believe for which Bobby Crisswell posed for?” he asked. “Yes.” replied Drake. “Well, Why don't you see it for yourself then.” said the manager as he passed a photo to them from the envelop. What shock did the Crisswell family had, no one knew. But it was nothing greater then the shock that Drake Hillman had. Yes, that was the photo under that tree where bobby has posed for him. And there he was in that same pose with a broad smile on his face under that tree. But, was he alone? Because there was something hanging from the tree, a white figure of a young girl in a white dress, resting her small feet on Bobby's both shoulder. And yes, she was probably hanging with the help of a rope that was tied tight around her neck. She also had her eyes open, shining bright red, full of malice, her long white hair around her face. Drake looked horrified as the manager told him, “Please sir, let me explain. Well, I have got cases like this before. I believe where you went was near the Hockward village.” he paused as Drake nodded silently. “Yes, have you ever heard of this story before Mr. Hillman? If you had then I belief you and Mr. Crisswell would never in your life had chosen that particular spot at all.” “Tell us the story then!” urged Bobby's aunt who was so shocked herself, she didn't look that she would be able to take any more. “Well, it was a few hundred years before, they say. There was this young girl who lived with her father in the woods, a father who never loved, the one who was as evil, a scoundrel her father was. He used to physically torture her, make her do chores and lashed her with the hunter. And there was no way out for the poor girl who had no mother, because his father had murdered her. One day, when it was enough, she ran out of the village, near small river and committed suicide by hanging herself from a very old birch tree. They say, her soul is still hanging from a tree, and there had been many cases before this as well, where people had taken photo of their loved ones and so evidently lost them, but had captured this pic of the hung girl. The girl, as they say, had no loved ones, so was jealous of the people who had loved ones. Thats why we see malice on her face.” The manager watched them full of concern. They were all still. Rather scared. Drake probably was. That sight is now prohibited from taking photos.