We went to the site of the trees and shrubs, just before the sand and water’s edge, the ropes where they had been captured and held were still visible, frayed and severed, for a moment it resembled that the top part of their arms had been cut off. They showed us, without the need for words, that it happened at the bottom of the hill. Two got away and one didn’t.
An apparition manifested, wearing the clothes she had been in when she died. Her clothes were not soiled or stained. She looked crisp and fresh and she wore a white linen frock with a gold leaf print. It was modest, with an open neckline, sleeveless, gathered at the waist, and the length fell between her knees and her calves. She had long mousy brown hair, a polished plain face and high cheekbones. She showed us a vision of her on top of the ridge, sitting on a bicycle, with her dress pulled up on the left-hand side.
I assume she was taken from the site where they had all been tied up, put in the hessian bag and ferried to the island, across the dark waters, in a small row boat, and it must have been there that she was killed.
Sharon Willdin is an award winning writer. Sharon’s short stories have been published in The Weekend Australian, Anamesa Journal, and Antithesis Journal. She lives in Sydney, Australia.